Shades of Truth
by Caorann fridh Bronach
Summary: Kaiba never believed in curses until strange occurrences started happening in his very home to his own brother. Time to react is running out, and as the answers continue to elude Seto, Mokuba is the one who suffers.
1. Prelude: Between Two Covers

Shades of Truth

Prelude: Between Two Covers

"There are as many truths as there are stars in the sky; and every one of them is different." (1)

No one liked to go by the old mansion.

Everyone claimed it was haunted, one of the most haunted places around. And who would want to risk their health or sanity going close to such a dismal, lonely place where only the curtains held any proof that a person with any warmth and emotion ever lived there? Though ragged and moth-eaten, the curtains held a natural crevice between where they met in the middle, a space near midway to the bottom where the flaking paint on the walls was visible and the glint of the stained, grimed window. A space made as one looked out from when they were closed, holding back the cloth in order that one might wave to a loved one. So often was the action repeated that the cloths still whispered of being moved as they sashayed against one another, emitting dust and cobwebs. But few ever saw such an indicator of how things might have been within the place.

Sure, there were the usual actions of school-age boys daring each other to creep in an old, boarded-up window and tread on the dust-covered floor in search of excitement, more often finding mice and large spiders eating the insects that burrowed their way in through the various holes wood flaunted when no one took care of it properly.

More common than the attack of vicious poltergeists, it was the terrifying imagined sounds (or true ones, for the mansion was not above creaking and moaning in its old age as it had been before when younger; indeed, the floorboards had not dared to make a protesting sound when _he_ had lived there) and half-seen nightmares lurking around the corner that drove the would-be famous darers back to their friends, candle forgotten where the breeze had blown out the puff of smoke. Of course, by the time he reached his friends, his heart would have calmed slightly and his mind, still full of its images, would grow even larger and new stories of bravery and sightings existed.

The stories of the mansion were, each year, more horrific and terrifying, gaining fantastic elements like how it held summoned ghosts by some necromancer, or some sort of demonic meeting that to view was to beckon death.

One fact was true of the ghastly tales; within the echoing hallways long turned to decay and rooms that had once held warmth, down the rickety stairs that used to be sturdy and along the walls now coarse and crumbling where once had been luxurious paintings of rich art; among it all, something of such fright and history had happened that would never give the building a peaceful, calm demeanor. Some kind of horrific event had been enacted out in its solitude and secrecy, making the phantasmagorias of today.

If a house were claimed haunted, there had to be a reason why.

But even the stories of why the mansion was empty, why they claimed it was haunted, even those increased in intensity and variety, no consensus met: a rabid dog turned on an abusive owner; a lovers' spat, both finishing silently with a bullet in them; a mother who had children and smothered them in her madness; and one of the creepiest, a young child who calmly and sedately murdered his parents with his bare hands, no emotion in his eyes.

The list of potential hypotheses was as long as the list of titles behind royalty's names. Most were blatantly false. Just a few had some elements of truth snuck in despite them, though the tellers would not have believed it themselves.

But far worse, far more horrifying was the actual story, the reason the mansion was boarded up and looking like a castle forsaken and discarded for a better toy. Yet, no one knew the truth, for it was locked away in history, in a time years past when the house had not been a decrepit, shambling reminder of past glories, but a glory in itself, in its prime and cared for, appreciated, loved.

You see, terrible things had indeed taken place within its walls. Things no one wanted to recall or contemplate, actions that just hearing about would make one ashamed. The truth was better laid to rest, forgotten and discarded, not even fit for a retelling in order to teach a moral. It is only within my bound covers, smothered with dust, decay, dirt, and pained through torn pages, that bits of the past can be recalled, and even the bits of remembrance I hold I am ashamed of.

Sitting here, quite silently, no one would guess how I am doomed to constantly relive the tale just as I am condemned to remain in this place forgotten, for even as the ink fades and the pages crust and turn to ash in one's grasp, the words are engraved into my very soul, my essence. The story will never leave my being or be erased so that a tale of great cheer and hope will decorate my insides and a picture of happy people adorn my exteriors.

If you wanted to know the tale, you came to the right place of the mansion. Here I lay on the floor, quite forgotten, utterly abandoned and despised, for as I said, I speak only the truth. The truth of one who was present when it all was happening, but even I know not all of it. But I can guess. My being is such that I can read between the pages.

I suppose it started as did anything of great import: with a regular, usual person living quite an ordinary life. But, of course, something out of the ordinary would transpire and change the course of events, make it so that the desired peaceful ending never would come about.

Years, many years ago, a young CEO and his brother had lived here…

* * *

A/N: This is just the prelude, obviously. Characters will be in the next chapter. 

(1): Marillier, Juliet. _Daughter of the Forest_. New York: Tom Doherty Associates, 2000. 227.


	2. One: Two Brothers, a Woven Tapestry

A/N: Sorry, I forgot to mention why this story is rated as it is. It's "T" for the language and violence, but mainly for the fact that I thought this plot up on my own out of my own evilness. And since I toned it down, it's not "M."

Chapter One: Two Brothers, a Woven Tapestry

_I am uncertain of what to write in here, as I would rather channel any uncharacteristic vagrant thoughts onto my computer, being a technologically inclined sort of person, but as my younger brother gave this to me for my birthday, I ought to make some sort of use of it. Perhaps I'll merely document the legal statistical records of my business and turn this into a ledger.

* * *

_

With a sigh that seemed the end of the world had finally come upon them and he was irked that he was going to be interrupted in his work, Seto Kaiba glanced over to his doorway where a small face peered worriedly in at him. Quickly printing out his documents that he needed for a meeting the next day, the young man strode over to his brother with his arms crossed.

"Yes, Mokuba?"

"Why…why aren't you in bed?"

"You know perfectly well why not. I have a lot of work to do. Remember the corporate board meeting tomorrow? It's not going to get done on its own."

"I know, but…"

"…"

"…"

"Well?"

"Nothing. I'll talk to you tomorrow then, Seto. …G'night."

"…Don't walk away like a beaten puppy! Argh, fine. I'll be in bed in forty minutes, all right?"

"All right! You promise this time?"

"Didn't I last time?"

"Seto! Stop smirking like that! You're obligated to keep your promises, you know! And you need your repose tonight for that official, super-important meeting tomorrow. You won't make a likable impression if you're half-dead and looking like a newly-disinterated corpse resurrected from the sepulcher."

"Stop practicing your vocabulary words on me. Do you even know what you're saying?"

"Yes, do you?"

"Of course. But you meant 'disinterred,' not 'disinterated' or whatever new word you made. Just go with 'exhume' next time."

"Oh, okay. I thought 'disinterated' sounded weird…see? Staying up late does that to people. And you'll be worse by tomorrow."

"So go to bed so I can finish my work and go to bed soon after."

"Set-_o_."

"A deal's a deal, all right?"

"I hope so."

"Hmph. One would think he didn't trust me," Kaiba muttered as his brother trudged back to his own bedroom down the long hallway.

Eyes blinking for a second from the brightness, he riveted his eyes back to the shining computer screen to keep his promise and deal as best he could.

* * *

If the bell were supposed to represent a time when students were expected to be seated and ready for class, it failed miserably. Of course, it wasn't exactly the bell's fault; some delinquents just could not be expected to make it on time even had there been a money trail to follow…Joey Wheeler would certainly follow the money trail, but then he'd have to stop to spend whatever he grabbed on some new cards in order to attempt beating his best friend at Duel Monsters one more time. He was inane. Yugi Moto wasn't about to lose, especially not to _him_. Yugi's defeat had already been claimed by Kaiba, and only Kaiba. It'd be no use dueling the pipsqueak if he lost to that fool of a duelist Wheeler. 

This morning was no different from other mornings, the juvenile felon sliding into his seat long after the bell that couldn't ingrain the rules in him.

But the teacher was not at all surprised and dryly commented, "I'm so pleased you decided to join this class before it ended, Wheeler." She looked pointedly at the clock, which only had eleven minutes to go until the end of the hour.

"Sorry, Teach. I had a bit of a problem."

Yugi looked over at him, wondering if the problem had anything to do with Joey's dad. After all, the drunkard seemed to be worse on the weekends, and today was Monday. Perhaps an extra-long time of erased memories and oblivion had resulted in an extra-long hangover and made Joey have to do some extra work—maybe that had been the "problem."

From the corner of his eye, Joey saw the smirk on the face of the student in the back of the room, the one who was blessed with the gift of utter annoyance and derisiveness, with taunts and condescending tones. His least favorite person to see in all the world: Seto Kaiba. Indeed, the teacher's words had been praise compared to what could come tumbling eloquently from the CEO's mouth.

This time, all was yet silent and calm. No sleek words would wash over Joey until after the teacher stopped paying so close attention to the students or, if he were especially blessed today, such commentary would only come in-between classes.

Surely, it seemed ironic that the one who would feel free to taunt others so excessively was hesitant to do it before figures of authority. Some, though never wherever or to whomever Kaiba himself had a chance of hearing, would have guessed he was afraid of getting in trouble.

No, it wasn't fear of the teachers or detentions or expulsion that kept Seto's tongue calmly tied up tightly to the hitching post. Not fear, but a promise to the very one who always was present at the mansion's large front window when he drove off to work or some tournament or meeting. A small figure would always, _always_ be there without fail, whether the drapes lay open or closed to the world, body fading into the background from his utterly still pose. Still except for the wave that would come and Seto would return.

His brother. Mokuba was the only one who kept Seto from completely lashing out at the world around him. A promise that he wouldn't do anything foolish that would get him in trouble with the school or state and thereby create a chance of harming Mokuba along with him. The brothers, after all, were tied together in a certain predicament that made Seto Kaiba—who would normally never so much as stoop to avoid trouble, instead seeking it out without fear—pause and contemplate before doing anything. If Mokuba were taken away from him…it was something the elder Kaiba didn't want to contemplate and so vowed he would never be the one to make it happen, and he highly doubted Mokuba would ever jeopardize their precarious situation himself.

They felt the same way about one another; that much was obvious. Both brothers lived entirely for the other and only sought to keep themselves going in difficult times for the other. No one would ever be able to take them away from one another and nothing would ever stand between them. Not work, not school, not other people. Thus they both believed and _knew_.

The Kaiba brothers were attached as closely as two branches spreading from the same trunk, as two chinks of a chain, as threads in a tapestry woven together. Not just anything could break them apart.

Joey was surprised when the bell rang not too long later and his fiercest rival had already left the class without loitering to make some of the usual dog taunts.

* * *

Going off to the board meeting later that day, Kaiba swiveled slightly in his seat in the limousine, accustomed to the age-old tradition. Rolling down the dark-tinted window at his side, Seto gazed out the crack and spotted his brother standing in the mansion window, as usual. 

Odd, Kaiba always thought, that his brother had kept this tradition no matter what. For years, ever since he was old enough to reach his hand up over the edge of the window, Mokuba had been present to bid his brother farewell. Back then, while still at home with their aunt and uncle and the boy was only four or five, back before the orphanage and Gozaburo, he had stuck up his hand and frantically waved while jumping to try to see his brother when Seto had just been going to get the paper or mail.

Even through the orphanage time and the years with Gozaburo, Mokuba had somehow kept this act alive. With a small pain at the center of his being, Kaiba couldn't know if Mokuba continued during the later years of when Gozaburo was still alive. He had never turned to wave back if his brother had been there during those years.

But he still believed Mokuba had been there. After all, Death-T and the couple years before that was mainly Kaiba's failing, not his brother's. Sure, the kid had tried to impress his older brother and make Seto proud of him by challenging Yugi and his friends to deadly games, but it had all been so that he, Seto Kaiba, would take notice of Mokuba and respect him. Or really, love him.

Such memories were not healthy to hold suppressed, but Kaiba merely bottled them away again tightly as he stuck out the top of his hand of the window and waved goodbye at his brother.

Then, rolling up the window again, Kaiba continued on the way to his board meeting, changing the regrets in his mind about his brother to thoughts of numbers, control, and power. The fond recollections of his smiling brother in the window had to revert to cold, calculating looks of his employees and opponents.

But the truth that his younger brother would be waiting at home was what made it all more possible.


	3. Two: Real Life Nightmares

Chapter Two: True-Life Nightmares

_I had forgotten about this for over a year at least. And now, what has driven me to it? Something foolish and mundane, childish even. It shames me to want to even seek comfort in this way. I shouldn't need it._

_I had a nightmare again. No, not really, "a" nightmare. _The_ nightmare again. The one I always seem to have no matter what happens in my day. The same boring, disconnected dreams might exist for awhile, but always, this one comes up and even seems to interrupt the ones I have to envelope me in its presence._

_It always begins with the damn penalty game Yugi put me through, the vision of seeing my death in multiple ways by Duel Monsters._

_I still hear his words echoing in my mind: "Kaiba…you will probably experience death in that world, but don't worry, it's only a nightmare, only an illusion."_

Only _a nightmare? _Only_ an illusion? It was _only _the very dream I tried to stifle forever by creating Death-T._

_Death-T didn't work. Or, at least, not recently._

_But now the dream has a different ending and one that seems worse, but not just because of my perfectionist nature and a compulsive need to have everything orderly and complete. Instead of simply being engulfed by the monsters and devoured, they laugh and leer at me as I'm working on some round-shaped puzzle. And I have all the pieces by my feet, or so I think. Working furiously quickly, trying to finish under the guffawing monsters and their ridicule, I finish it in various stages depending on how much I sleep._

_But never have I ever finished the puzzle. I've used up all the pieces at my disposal and gone crawling amidst the monsters' scaly, rotted limbs to seek out the final piece that leaves the ball with a gaping hole. Without the last piece, it can never be completed, and without that last piece, the ball can never be a ball. It is simply an incomplete puzzle._

_I've crept on my hands and knees for countless minutes and sought out answers fruitlessly, I've gone to face my fears and asked help from the monsters and searched their bodies in my desperation to finish this strange golden orb, but never do they cooperate and never do they, sneering, hold out the last piece to taunt me._

_I just seek and stumble around, trying to find it…_

_And I never find the last piece.

* * *

_

The monsters, the horrible faces and auras of malicious power, all were surrounding him. Claws and fangs savagely attacked him and froze him to his seat in the same instant. The overwhelming scent of his sweat born of fear made his nose cringe and seemed only to spur on the monsters so close to him. Soon, so soon, they would reach him with their frantic attacks, hatred coming to wash over him like a simple breeze.

"Big brother! Help me! Seto!"

But no one ever answered his cries, and just when the monsters' eyes gleamed hungrily and their claws raked his face and hair, tearing his clothing to shreds, the view switched to hold utter blackness.

Emptiness.

Not daring to move for fear lest he stumble and fall for an eternity, the boy crouched and quivered. Even breathing seemed like too much movement that would, in an instant, topple him over the edge to never return.

Voice barely the softest dynamic in music, he whispered, "Brother, where are you? Please, help me…"

A tickle of cold wind accented his sweat and uneasiness, carrying along with it the solitary stench of a single person locked up in a close space. Locked up? But…he was going to fall! The wall might be one foot in front of him, and still, Mokuba feared to move and risk plummeting. And now, even his small whispers vanished into a tiny whimper, but no one ever came to help.

Eyes so heavy, body so weary, he began to weave and grow too weak to hold himself so stiffly tight. Without meaning to, he nodded off to sleep for a split second, and that was all it took to make him careen over the edge and begin the descent that would keep going. Forever.

Screaming, no longer caring about being silent, Mokuba kicked and flailed, but nothing was present to slow his fall in the slightest, and a bubble of laughter burst out of him as he thought about falling forever and ever, no one ever finding him and how he'd grow old just falling and falling…

With a jerk, Mokuba opened his eyes and gave a kick like how he had been trying to slow his descent.

The covers were tightly wrapped around him as if someone were trying to suffocate him or wrap him like a mummy. Frantically, the nightmare still real in his mind, he jerked and freed himself from the blankets with a wild struggle. Then, landing on the floor with a heavy plop, Mokuba stopped moving long enough to catch his breath and let his heart slow from winning its race.

"That dream again," he whispered to himself.

Only, it hadn't been a dream. His mind had exaggerated it somewhat, that was true, but both had happened.

Wondering if he ought to call his brother or pad down the hall to find his brother and seek some solace that way, Mokuba slowly shook his head.

"He wasn't there for me then." His big eyes almost began to fill on remembering how it had been his very brother to press the button to make him see those nightmares of the monsters attacking him, guaranteed to drive a person insane. Seto's hand hadn't been the one to pull him free from the horrors.

Yugi had. Or Yami.

And the other nightmare, the one with the capsule and sitting in the empty blackness, there, his brother hadn't rescued him either. The set length on the "penalty game" had just run out and released him from the prison. That time, it had been Yami himself who had imprisoned him. But Mokuba knew he had deserved it for what he had planned and how he had cheated.

His brother couldn't help him now. Most likely, Seto'd just want Mokuba to never mention anything to do with penalty games or Death-T again.

After all, who would want to remember such nightmares?

* * *

Mokuba Kaiba was not the only one who had such nightmares or who had suffered from such penalty games. 

Why did Seto Kaiba never want to sleep? Such nightmarish concoctions always awaited him whenever he shut his eyes.

He so desperately wanted to find that last puzzle piece, but never had he managed it yet. Always when he awoke from that dream that never failed to arrive like an unwanted guest at a party—who, to Kaiba, would be Joey Wheeler—Seto felt bereft and utterly lonely.

With a start, his eyes slid to the journal Mokuba had given him a long while ago. After one hasty first entry that he had written more than fourteen months ago, he had never even used it except to comment on a certain birthday occurrence a few months ago. And once before that, a similar dream to the one he had just dreamt had ended up within it before the young CEO could convince himself it was too unimportant to be included.

Glancing at the first entry, the teenager gave a half-smile. The book had neither been used as a ledger or journal as Mokuba intended. It had simply been ignored after those three entries and plenty of times between them. Not any longer. It would finally have a use. A continued use.

This dream, as would the ones that followed, was one that only found itself life in his long-forgotten journal; never did Kaiba pester his brother with the dream. In the daylight, no doubt Mokuba would find it foolish. Just putting his dreams down made him seem weak and susceptible to fancies. But it was better than having his brother think him so.

While Kaiba could never completely shake the feeling that something was missing, was forgotten even in the day, it didn't mean that everyone else would see it in the same light. And his brother's respect was something the CEO would not risk losing, not even if these nightmares caused him to lose all his sleep.

* * *

"You don't look like you're sleeping well. Do I have to make a deal with you every night so that you sleep?" 

"I'm not the only one with bags under my eyes, Mokuba. And mine are nothing you need to concern yourself with."

"Then neither are mine." The ebony-haired boy poured himself a bowl of cereal and sat down silently at the table, not looking in the cheeriest of moods for once.

Rubbing his eyes and wondering if he looked as terrible as he felt, Kaiba realized he was going on about this the wrong way. He got himself a cup of scalding coffee and began to sip it in the vague hope it'd be able to burn away the recollection of his nightmares. Then the lanky young man took a seat by his brother.

"Reason for a reason?"

Glancing at him suspiciously, Mokuba shoved aside the cereal box of which he had been reading the back.

"You'll really tell me why you haven't been sleeping well?" he scoffed.

"If you explain why you haven't been."

Swirling the spoon in his bowl, Mokuba pondered the whirling eddies as if they held the mystic answers found in a crystal ball and could whisper the loophole in his brother's suggestion. Seto _never_ talked about his dreams. He found it foolish.

"I had a bad nightmare." The preteen's voice was tiny, a mere paper-thin slip of sound that would have become lost in the slight nervous tapping of his finger or in Seto's uncharacteristically disheveled hair had not the young man inclined his head just right to catch the small voice.

Silence took control of the kitchen and barricaded the doors and windows so that nothing other than those allowed could enter. But it had mistakenly let the wind slip past, forgetting how the wind could be quiet one moment and roaring the next: a tremendous sigh escaped Mokuba's small frame, seeming larger than his body could possibly hold prisoner even with the strongest bonds.

"I know it's foolish," he added quickly, turning back to his cereal like a squirrel eating up before winter. "Forget it."

Staring out of the window at the neatly-trimmed trees in his backyard, Seto slouched back in his chair. "That's why I couldn't sleep, either. Seems we both have a problem with giving in to foolish whims and fancies. I'll stop letting my imagination cart me away if you do the same."

Slowly, Mokuba's eyes went from the spoon still dripping milk to find his brother's distant, faded blue irises. Seeing Kaiba return to the present and gain a spark of life despite how weary his body appeared, the younger Kaiba smiled.

"All right, it's a deal, big brother."

* * *

A/N: Once again...thanks so much for reviews, especially places to improve! I don't want to give anything away about the story, but since you explicitly asked, Kuramarulez, the odds of a Yugi/Yami pairing are...slim. I'd love to thank you all personally, as well, but there was a rumor about that not being allowed...But as to your first question, Seq, yes. 


	4. Three: Forgotten Promises

**Death-T: **I apologize for not explaining for those who hadn't read the manga sooner. After losing a duel to the other Yugi, where Kaiba had cheated (Dark Yugi then made him play a "penalty game" through the power of his Puzzle, where the CEO saw his own death by the game's monsters , which left quite a scar, even if they were only illusions), Kaiba set up a kind of amusement park. Yet, it was sadistic because he was out to murder Yugi and gang. One such person in it, ready to face off to the gang, was a real murderer who cut his victims into tiny pieces. Even Mokuba was a part of it, but when he lost a game to Yugi, Seto turned the same "Experience of Death" that he had had happen to him (recreated through virtual technology) on his brother. The other Yugi pulled Mokuba free of it and progressed to battle Kaiba once more at Duel Monsters. Naturally, Kaiba lost again, and Dark Yugi shattered Kaiba's heart to have him recreate it in a way without evil.

Chapter Three: Forgotten Promises

_I need to make this up to my brother; how on earth could I have been gone for his birthday? Especially after I promised him we'd celebrate together? How many promises have I broken to my brother? Just one is far too many. He deserves far better than he gets from me._

_What really bothers me…how many more promises will I break?

* * *

_

Dropping his head into one hand, Kaiba rifled through his hair and realized that he would never live down one mistake.

Mokuba enjoyed reminding him about the error too much mainly because it was a discussion Kaiba always lost. Plus, Mokuba was looking forward to his end of the deal—Seto had promised to give the boy something special to make up for being gone on the his brother's birthday after the CEO had promised to be there.

Not even a logical excuse was at his disposal. No business trip had stranded him somewhere to forbid him to return on time. His ticket would have allowed the businessman to return home in time. He had merely forgotten his promise and gone with the conclusion that sealing a deal was more important than being there on the day his brother had been born.

Recalling his brother's face that day still tore the young man apart.

* * *

(Wanted asterisks...but fine, flashback)

* * *

On the ninth of July, Kaiba climbed out from his transportation back to his abode and gave a silent sigh. Traveling so much in the last ten hours had not been the most fun he had ever experienced. 

Somewhat oddly, no tar-haired brother was there to greet him with a smile and question. So, Kaiba proceeded inside his mansion to set down all his belongings and unpack, which only consisted of his briefcase for both actions.

Inside, the house was strangely quiet for Seto's knowledge that a newly-turned twelve-year-old existed with more energy upon him than all the caffeine could give to anyone.

Shrugging, Kaiba went upstairs. Unpacking orderly was completed in five minutes. Then he decided it was time to seek out Mokuba, still surprised the boy had not put in appearance yet. Usually, Mokuba was overjoyed to have his brother back and would bounce on the bed chatting while Seto tried to put his things away.

"Mokuba?" Kaiba called softly as he approached his brother's room.

No one replied, and Seto couldn't deny he was getting slightly worried as the silence continued. His hand slipped the door open all the way, and as he gazed around the empty room, a fist of fear squeezed his heart savagely, as poisonous lips whispered in his ear all the probable events that would have taken Mokuba from his home, each one worse than the last.

"Sir. Master Seto," a security man said hesitantly from the other side of the door.

Coldly turning, eyes a loaded crossbow prepared to shoot its bolt, the man whitened slightly behind his dark glasses.

Absently running a hand alongside his head though his hair needed absolutely no smoothing, he continued, "Master Mokuba is not at home, sir. He went over to Master Yugi's on the day of his birthday for a few days. I apologize for not reaching you with the news sooner."

Yugi's? His brother was over at Yugi's for the last few days?

Then the other part of the words hit him. _Day of his birthday_…So, Kaiba could guess some of what was going on through his brother's mind that time. Maybe deciding to finish the meeting with only a phone call to his brother and not even mentioning his birthday hadn't been the most prudent choice.

"Very well. Ready the limo. I'm going over there now," Kaiba snapped at his employee, unsatisfied with the man's brisk walk, but remaining silent.

Home after a trip, coat not even removed, and Seto Kaiba was going off to track his errant brother for being absent on his return after the CEO himself had been absent for Mokuba's birthday.

Smiling wryly, Kaiba wasn't certain who he was more disappointed with, his brother or himself.

* * *

The quaint shop that Solomon Moto owned to sell little games to foolish young people with the money to waste on boring pursuits—very little of the shop included any _real_ games to Kaiba, but whether that was because the Moto's owned them or because he thought himself too good for them, he refused to contemplate—came into view through the limo's windows. 

"Wait here. And be ready to go again soon."

The driver gave a half-bow to Seto as he waited to close the door again, and the president of the largest gaming corporation strode into the shop with a determined expression on his face.

"Oh, hello, Kaiba," the old man said somewhat cheerily. That he even managed to sound somewhat cheery was shocking after what Kaiba had done to him about two years ago.

Somehow, the CEO was sure that locking an old man in a box to experience the horrors he himself had faced in his dreams and life to drive the storekeeper insane in order to gain some petty revenge on the man's grandson didn't seem like the best way to make friends—or business partners. Kaiba tended to avoid the place when looking to buy Duel Monster cards these days, and any attempt for Solomon to sell Kaiba Corporation products was handled by some underling better able to seal the deal than the one whose voice only triggered bad remembrances.

"Where's Mokuba?" he replied stiffly with the usual lack of address.

Solomon's big violet eyes opened slightly wider as he lost his smile attempt. "Oh, they're in the other room. I'll call him for you."

Instead of merely staying behind to await his brother, Kaiba followed the elder Moto to the back room that held a television and couch. There, sprawled on the floor watching some tournament of Duel Monsters was Mokuba. And Yugi.

Both glanced over without much interest when Solomon entered the room with his heavy footfalls, but Mokuba's eyes widened slightly and he got to his feet quickly on the sight of his unhappy brother.

"Seto?" Mokuba's voice held more than a little unease at being caught at a friend's house without permission. Almost, a trace of old fear was in it, the same fear that had laced his words back when the two had not been on the best terms. Back during Death-T.

Will I never be allowed to forget that time? Kaiba thought to himself, annoyed that all these people constantly reminded him of the days he regretted more than any other.

"We're going home now."

Without another word, Seto crossed his arms and strode back out of the building without casting a single glance back at them to make certain they were scrambling to obey his orders. Not a thought existed that illustrated them doing anything other than his explicit directions.

"Uh, sorry about that, guys."

Mokuba quickly gathered together his few belongings and started off after his brother, heart pounding more than it ought to have been at the prospect of joining his brother.

"Don't worry about it, Mokuba. I hope you can come again soon sometime!"

"Thanks, Yugi, Mr. Moto!" Mokuba sent back a wave and small smile before he exited the shop to climb into the limo, one door still open for him though his brother had vanished within its dark depths already.

The driver took Mokuba's things and placed them in the trunk of the vehicle, crisply shutting the door behind the younger Kaiba and leaving the brothers in silence.

As the hum of the car became the only sound, Mokuba frowned over at his brother, a fuzzy feeling of hot anger rising under his skin. What right did _Seto_ have to be upset? Mokuba could go over to friends' houses if he wanted, especially when his brother was absent and unable to tell him otherwise. And it had been his _birthday_, one that Seto had promised to be there for. He had broken his promise, and now he was upset or disappointed with Mokuba?

Eyebrows lowering over his normally innocent eyes, Mokuba turned toward his brother and simply let his gaze sit on his brother for awhile. No doubt Kaiba knew Mokuba was looking at him, and the boy refused to budge his eyes until Seto turned and gave him his attention.

After at least one entire minute, Kaiba did turn from the uninteresting view of the window and focused on a pair of eyes that looked like the reflection of his own only with different color.

"What is it?" he asked, more icily than he'd meant.

Mokuba didn't reply, reveling in the feeling of authority he finally had on his brother, simply glaring more at his brother.

"Well?" Seto snapped.

"You weren't here for my birthday. You _promised_, Seto." For a flash, the mask of anger and disapproval was replaced with a profound sadness and loneliness that pierced through the layers of excuses and near-fibs Kaiba had been trying to come up with for days. All of them disintegrated like ash in rain, leaving him with nothing but the rank scent of their presence.

On the defensive and hating the feeling yet unable to justify him being in the right at all, Kaiba said, "I had the meeting."

Mokuba's frown and narrowed eyes were back, just as hurtful as the glance of desolation that dwelled deep within his soul. I have no one else, the look seemed to have said, so why couldn't you have been there? You're all I have remaining and you _left_ me. Left me on a day that was supposed to be somewhat important. If a birthday won't call you home, what will? I have nothing else to summon you with.

The expression in those deep gray eyes was too hard to bear. "You're right," he said, though Mokuba had said nothing aloud. "I should have been here. I'm sorry," he finished softly, breath making the window he was so near to slightly steamed.

Turning back to his brother, Seto was glad to see the glare had slipped off the boy's features, wiped off purely and cleanly as if it had never been. Mokuba hadn't looked good with his expression.

Tentatively, Mokuba tried a small smile. "I think you owe me."

The bond had only been recently forged again between them, but Kaiba tried to keep the mood light so they could return to their former relationship.

"Is that so? What would you like? Other than your birthday presents?"

"I want _another_ birthday present. One that you'll buy for me whenever I come across the perfect one."

Eyebrows raising, Kaiba smirked. "You think you need more presents than what you already have?"

"No, I don't need them. You just owe me them. And I want one that I get to choose all on my own. Something that means something special to me that I can keep with me always." Mokuba was thinking of the locket he had with his brother's picture in it; surely that was one such item. But also on his mind was the memory of the shining Millennium Puzzle that Yugi constantly wore around his neck and helped to make his very identity. Having something like that would be nice, too, and Mokuba thought he had to choose the item himself to ensure it was absolutely perfect.

"Fine, you've a deal. In payment for a broken promise, you get one item to be purchased at a store of your choice." He highly doubted his brother would be able to pick anything too expensive or even something simply foolish and trivial. Kaiba trusted his brother more than that.

"Good." Mokuba settled back in the limousine, unaware of how the air between them had changed, just knowing he was back in his proper place and on the same good relationship he always had with his brother.

Quietly, as the car rolled through the gates to the Kaiba Mansion, Mokuba murmured, "I'm glad you're back, Seto."

Smiling with his gaze still on the window, Kaiba answered, "Happy birthday, kiddo."

* * *

(end flashback)

* * *

Still Mokuba had not chosen his birthday gift, and Kaiba was beginning to wonder. School had started a month ago, and he doubted his brother would have forgotten about it. All his recent work with the corporation had kept him up late and busy, away from Mokuba, as the boy had noticed, and he hoped a repeat experience of that day wasn't about to happen. 

His worries ended up being completely unnecessary.

"I finally know where I want to go!" Mokuba announced at dinner. "For my promised birthday gift. We'll go tomorrow!" Seeing his brother wanting to question where, the boy simply grinned. "No telling until we get there!"


	5. Four: Past Curses Still Potent

Chapter Four: Past Curses Still Potent

_If my entries in this were supposed to be at all like Old Faithful, I must have corrupted the geyser and stopped it up enough that no steam could blow for never-ending periods. Then, when it finally did manage to break loose, it would have so much more fury and potency. Enough to knock a man into the distant stars._

…_My writing has taken on an enigmatic, symbolic, annoying metaphoric feel. I must not be in my right mind. But that's why I finally returned to this little book once more as well as to chart my annoying dreams._

_I can't seem to understand my feelings as of late. I just want to have something that isn't exactly mine, but it means so much to me I can't live without it. And someone else is taking it from me. Someone else is getting what I deserve, what is missing from me. But I can't seem to stop it.

* * *

_

The dragon's eyes glowed green.

In an instant, a boy's purple-gray eyes shone and flashed in determination as a response.

Firmly, Mokuba said, pointing his small finger, "I'm going to get that, Seto."

Incredulous, his older brother peered at the small dragon whose jewel eyes seemed to flash in a smirk. The workaholic scoffed as he glanced down to see just how stubborn his brother was going to prove.

"You said I could choose any store and any item in it. Are you going to change your mind now?" A glint of obdurateness remained in the vice-president's big eyes, but now, an imploring appearance had been the winning (or thieving) emotion from all the others in the poker game trying to win the right to appear on the face.

"I wonder about my own generosity at times."

"What was that, Seto?"

"Nothing. Fine we'll get whatever you want. I just can't believe you'd waste your promised birthday gift—a gift you took months before deciding on—"

"I wanted it to be just right!"

"—on _this_! It reminds me of the ludicrous puzzle that Yugi Moto has!"

Brightly, Mokuba said, "Well, he did mention this place to me. But he didn't get his Millennium Puzzle here. Anyway, this is a dragon. You like dragons."

Shaking his head as if the words were of no importance, like Mokuba had opted for a cobra snake as a pet and had tried to console his brother it was all right because Seto had liked the letter "s." Completely irrelevant.

"Are you always going to make me regret my promises, kiddo?" Kaiba strode over to the cashier.

"As often as possible." Mokuba grinned up at his brother. "You wouldn't owe me if you would just be home for my birthday once in awhile. So you see, break one promise, got to get another one, right?"

Seto could hear how lighthearted his brother's voice was, but with a pang of a shattered mirror that held simply illusions, he knew his brother was being utterly truthful. And Kaiba realized right then: Mokuba was absolutely right.

"Ye be gettin' the _dragon pendant_?" The old man ringing them up looked beadily at Mokuba and then Kaiba as if questioning the elder one's sanity in giving someone he supposedly cared about the charm that the boy desperately wanted.

"Obviously. That's what I said."

"Be ye sure o' that choice? The dragon is…connivin'."

"Why would you have something in your shop if you were hesitant about selling it?" Kaiba coldly replied.

"I only be hesitatin' ta whom I sell it, mister. If it be intended for this here young man, then I must question the action. Let me tell ye a tale and then…then make yer choice."

"This oughtta be good." He smirked, crossing his arms.

The senile old fool took on an affected voice, lowering his tone to a conspiring whisper.

"It happened long…long…ago…"

* * *

(story)

* * *

The old crafter had little left in his life worth remaining on the earth for, but his one reason to linger on a bit longer happened to be the very one that meant the most to him.

He had a daughter, the only child he had, the child of his old age.

Azerjan's wife, who the girl took after, had died when the child was a scant three years old, and since then, the aging man cared for his tender, foreign-looking daughter himself, realizing as he worked on with his fine crafting that he would not be around for long enough to see her safely married away to one or another of the brave desert lads.

But he would see to it she was well-provided for long before then.

This next craft of Azerjan's was the work of his life. All his experience, all his skill that had grown and improved over the years would culminate in this final burst of talent balled and encased in metal for all to see it and admire.

Not of the normal Middle Eastern myths would this creature be made of. No familiar ancient tales would form this shell that would hold his lifetime's work for the rest of all time. He needed something even more foreign, some exotic beauteous creature able to capture the hearts of all those who saw it instantly with its simple wild freedom and untamable spirit. He needed something that would instantly make someone see a dazzling creature that to hold and keep was to kill, and yet, to see it free and wild was to yearn after it always…for that was how he saw his daughter in her freedom. To hold the last vestiges of what he devoted his life for, to represent his daughter's wild, natural spirit, nothing less would do.

Such work was not done overnight.

* * *

The slowly moving time that flowed around the sandy areas did not pull to a halt to allow the elderly craftsman extra hours to begin this project of ultimate skill. Many days had passed since Azerjan first became convinced of the work he must do; to the others, he had seemed to be retired, letting his young daughter, barely ten years old, help cook him dinner and keep their hut tended nicely. But unknown to them, the work on his project had begun long ago.

"Daddy, will you ever work on your last great project?"

"I told you Desarqiz, I have already been working a long time on my project. The most important part is making the best decision on what form this next craft will take."

Whenever the nomadic people crossed the desert and chanced upon some other tribe, Azerjan went to speak with the elders to see if they knew any more stories than he himself did. Story after story, legend after legend was told, and still, Azerjan became no closer to finishing—or even starting—his most important project. As his tottering gait grew shakier and his breathing rattled longer in his lungs, Azerjan knew he needed to decide on things soon.

It was then, at one of the desert oases, that Azerjan met the stranger.

Light-colored hair so foreign to his people was openly visible, no head garment covering the skin for protection and tradition. The clothes were odd, not the long, flowing garments that helped one feel a cool breeze even in the stillest moments. Skin pale where the sun had not burned it harsh red was as the shining moon—the moon that offered a small respite from the blazing, bubbling sun, the moon coldly looking down on the nomadic people as it grinned coolly from afar where no warmth reached the people.

From sweltering lava air to ice being swallowed in every gasp: so night followed day. The desert was a harsh life, even for those who grew up in the climate.

The tribe would have been completely baffled and astounded, but this stranger had a similar appearance as Desarqiz herself…and her mother. Azerjan's wife had indeed been a rare person in the desert land, her origins a mystery and one he never discovered; his wife had been around for too short a time to give him much other than the one girl before her passing. Her looks had warranted her much staring, and in the more daring young men, fights on who would get the beautiful foreigner. That was part of the reason Azerjan was preparing ahead of time for his daughter's own path to adulthood.

For this new stranger, the desert had nearly taken his life, remorseless and detached in its vast domain where everything living had the pseudo-death appearance anyway. One more carcass left to mold in the parched air meant little to such a harsh ruler.

The nomads paused ever so slightly in their accustomed trudge to the known oasis, someone hefting the body up once a stir of life was found on the strange, wheaten-haired interloper.

At first, Azerjan kept his distance from the strange figure who seemed like a collection of bones covered in a pale death shroud, hair mimicking the clinking gold his people wore occasionally for decoration. Would the man even be able to understand them? Would he know any myths that would incorporate his dream?

So, slowly, Azerjan watched the foreign man gain back his health and walk among them, voice slipping over their language, but having a fundamental grasp of it. And despite his calm exterior and schooled expression, his cool gray eyes held some well-known demons back from the safety of consciousness. The craftsman and his daughter were not the only people to hear the man thrash in his sleep.

* * *

Many strange, ill-sounding words were released every night when the stranger slept, crying out in his foreign tongue about some evils that happened to always flicker at the back of his mind in the day and completely enwrap him in their hooked hands to face their hungry devouring visages.

Days had passed, and the man was better able to communicate in the language, which he had known some of before the nomads ever discovered him. Yet, his dreams were always in the foreign tongue. And it was there that Azerjan heard the word the man said with utter fear, awe, and honor all at once.

"_Dragon!_"

It was mixed in with a jumble of other words, but once spoken, that cry from the man reverberated in the craftsman's ears even as the others tumbled to the far recesses of utter darkness and decayed at once. Dark eyes looking around, the man found his daughter's glittering eyes wide and listening, and she whispered the word to herself once more.

"Dragon."

The first ominous blow to the crafter's spirit struck him terribly, and he knew that even with the foretelling of such an evil essence, this was the route he would go.

Azerjan approached the stranger the next day, asking as simply as possible about what he had been dreaming. "What is 'dragon?'"

The man stared at him, the usual daytime shutter of his eyes vanishing and the panic piling up before he could take a breath and calm himself.

"Creature. Monster. Stories." He shuddered despite himself.

"Tell, explain."

"It…" he wrapped his hands around a clay cup holding his mushy brew of breakfast. "It murders, destroys. Takes over the world." He ended in a stream of his own language, but Azerjan just looked calmly at him and waited for his trembling to lighten.

The craftsman said the foreign word again, then mimicked being strong and powerful, raising his brows when he was finished.

"Yes, dragons are strong. Scary. And yet…beautiful and awe-inspiring." He searched for simpler words to explain himself. "Uh…pretty, honorable, humbling." Reaching for a dry plant that would never be reborn in the infrequent rains, he sketched a figure in the smooth sands. A blast of something powerful came out of its long-toothed jaws, and from the waving lines of it and shape of it, the element was fire.

Some creature able to breathe fire out of its mouth? What mystery was this? Azerjan suddenly smiled; this was the indeed the creature he wanted to give to his daughter. She would encase its wild spirit and embody its flaming brilliance, and by following its example, he knew he would not have to worry over her wellbeing when he was gone.

The forging could now begin that he knew what form the amulet would take. For so long, nothing had seemed to be going on at all over his craftsman's forging fire. But now, as the sun sank in the sky once more, Azerjan heated it up once more to emblazon the inside of his open tent the same fiery color as the sky. At dusk, the hour of when the beast rose in the foreign man's dreams, was when this craftsman began work to create his own.

The lump of strange metal he had bought long ago, costing him all his savings, was finally going to gain a form and illusion of life.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews last time! They all made me so happy and put a smile to my face... 


	6. Five: The Perfect Stone

A/N: Please remember we're in the middle of a tale being told.

Chapter Five: The Perfect Stone

_My brother had a bruise on his arm that looked exceedingly painful. But, when I pointed it out, he just went silent and avoided my eye. No matter how I encouraged him to talk, he wouldn't mention a word about it. Finally, he just left the room I was in and closed the door to his bedroom._

_Then, I heard a sound I'd never heard before:_

_He locked his door to me.

* * *

_

Not just any valuable gemstone would do for such a splendid charm, and Azerjan summoned all the bravest young men of his tribe to him one day, promising glories and rewards if they would set out on his quest to find the perfect stone for his dragon's eyes. One of their common legends told of a fantastic stone that would change in the light to a different color. That, the one that took such skill to find and retrieve, was the one he required.

"Go forth and fetch for me the Stone of Tallyba and a reward such as you have never had will be yours! Bards will sing of your journey for years on after this; all the money I possess will become yours; the gift of my daughter's hand in marriage will also be yours, as will all the utensils and tools of my craft making. You need but to return with the sleek Tallyba Stone!"

The men stirred about themselves, casting each other curious and emblazoned looks. So much glory and honor…but it would have to be certain death. Such a price wasn't worth it.

For most of them.

Some of those who heard the reward and invigorated speech gathered their belongings, bid their families farewell, and set out on a journey that would test the limits of everything they had.

Fourteen men set out from the tribe across the desert in their separate routes. Fourteen each determined to be the one to win and gain the elderly craftsman the stone he desired, the stone that had been a part of their lore for so long. And of those fourteen, but one returned.

The journey of each was lost and forgotten except maybe by some strangers encountered on the way…of the last, he never spoke of what happened and only had nightmares to relive them; nightmares worse than that foreigner who had since gone on his way.

But the tribe of the desert knew the legends of the Stone of Tallyba and could imagine the horrors this young man faced before he came back wrinkly and grayed over like an old man, shoulders slumped and eyes dull, without spirit.

It was said he encountered the Tallyba Horror, the beast that wore the stone upon its body. To get the Stone, the beast would have had to have been killed…but the man never told what exactly had transpired.

The victory feast for his return and even the craftsman's rewards heaped upon him never relit the spark in his eye, and the young man wandered off one morning not too long after returning, not taking any of his rewards.

No one ever heard or saw him again.

The second ominous strike to Azerjan's heart occurred, but he knew it was not enough to stop him. His daughter was worth far more than two dark feelings.

* * *

All his energy went into forging the dragon and then, crafting the eyes from the remarkable, tiny Stone of Tallyba. Though he had an apprentice, Azerjan was the one who did all the work for this piece. 

The castoffs, the slivers that he didn't use from the Stone, he placed in a pouch for his daughter as well, sleeping with a poker near him at night for how much he feared someone would try to take the invaluable stone away from him.

Two rounded, immaculately small beads had been sculpted from the Stone of Tallyba. And these, Azerjan thought as he looked on them, were perfect for the dragon's eyes. This was where the soul of the object would be. Where _his_ soul would be.

And then, one day, Azerjan let the fire of his forge cool down, the raging tongues meekly remaining in the pit instead of thrashing to free themselves. His tools were set down with a clink, and yet, as common a sound as it had been before, this time, there was a simple finality to it all.

"Are you done?" Desarqiz asked him plaintively.

Smiling down at her upturned face with a grin that crinkled all his looks, Azerjan nodded. "Yes, daughter, I've finished."

She reached up eagerly to see the finished product, and slowly, hesitantly, Azerjan let her gape. For some reason, he was loath to let his young daughter clutch it, even though it was for her he had made it. What if she didn't understand how important this craft was, all of what it held?

But Azerjan had been on the world many moons, no longer having too many remaining to him, and he had attempted to make Desarqiz into someone who would understand things. So, the father trusted his daughter and left the amulet in her hand as he vacated his tent to wash himself and his utensils.

As he was gratefully cleansing himself utterly from his old style of life and his former tasks, from his work and his feeling of unfinished work, an odd thump behind him made the man pause and remain in indecision for a moment.

Just a moment.

Confused and paranoid leaving his craft so unprotected, Azerjan stood. Then, going as fast as his spindly old legs would allow him, he made for his tent.

What sight awaited him at his tent never would leave his eyes, and even if he viewed something else, the mind's eye replayed this over and over again…

Someone's heavy body on the floor, bloodstained. His apprentice. The wounds the young man had suffered must have caused him to want to yell out had he had time to do so, and his hand holding the poker showed how he had tried to protect…

Frantic, Azerjan sought out his daughter. She was alive. Alive and well.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he took a step forward, growing so much older as he bent over the young boy's body that was still warm.

A low chuckle made the craftsman slowly raise his head again. Unseen from the angle Azerjan had entered the tent, another man stood, grinning and looking extremely pleased. In his hand, he held the dragon necklace bearing the twin Stones of Tallyba.

"I'm quite pleased to have gotten this trinket from you, old man. Too bad your boy had to be silenced. Permanently. But I'll be taking this charm now. What a price it'll fetch…"

The dark man's eyes misted over as he gazed at the dragon's eyes winking at him.

Firmly, Azerjan grasped a nearby hammer and readied it to use in his defense. He moved in front of his daughter, so startled she had not moved or made a sound. Inching closer, the craftsman thought to not be noticed so quickly by the murderer, but the man looked over at him, returning to the present.

"I'm afraid I'll just have to dispose of you, old man. Can't have you aware of this theft or murder. Then I'll just go off and make my way in the world. With the money you made for me." He grinned, whitish teeth flashing in the darkness.

Azerjan was silent, just running his fingers more tightly around the hammer's handle. His dragon had been the most important part of him for more than the last year, and now, he was prepared to let it go. Just so his daughter was safe. After all, it was for Desarqiz he had made it.

The stranger's eyes passed by the craftsman and landed on the girl with a slight widening of his eyes and inclination of his head that left Azerjan befuddled. But not for long. And far better would it have been for him to remain completely ignorant than to be aware of what was to transpire.

A hollow whack sounded on his head, and as Azerjan tottered to the side, trying to make the world stop spinning, his surprised glance landed on his daughter holding a flat coal scoop. The glint in her young eyes was more than he could bear, and with a twitch, the man stumbled, collapsing to the ground.

She had betrayed him. She had _killed_ him. His own daughter.

Gasping in a breath into quivering, fading lungs, Azerjan weakly pointed a finger at his daughter and the man both, now that they were together and looking at him.

"I…_curse_…" Gasping and wheezing, breath rattling in his throat, Azerjan coughed. With one more inhale, he continued to spit out, "The charm…will _always_…hold…my righteous vengeance…"

The man kicked Azerjan once more in the head to silence him, and as Desarqiz looked up at him, he smiled again. "We can go now; you aren't tied to the old man any longer. You're free."

And that night, the two of them slipped out of the tent with two bodies and escaped into the desert to try their luck on their own.

Free.

But for the curse that followed them everywhere…

* * *

(end story)

* * *

"And they say, that from that then moment on, ev'ry single person who has ever owned the amulet has suffered strife. The one closest ta the person who owned it would be the one ta fail, fer the old craftsman wanted the relationships ta fail; he wanted everyone ta feel the treach'ry he had fer givin' his ole bein' and life ta one and then bein' shunned aside like a bag too tattered ta use." 

His voice slowed and softened, going to silence in the old shop.

"So…will ye be gettin' it?"

Mokuba's eyes snapped from where they were mesmerized on the old clerk's wrinkled face. The story had lasted for such a long time, and yet, neither Kaiba could have said just how long. The words had flowed over them, captivating their attention as thoroughly as a squirrel would sit still and silent once she had scented a potential predator, attention completely devoted to the task, for a life was at stake.

"Oh, yeah! I want it more than ever now! Please, Seto?"

Kaiba smirked, putting his hands into his pockets. "I promised, didn't I? I don't believe in this idiotic nonsense anyway. In fact, I'm getting it for you now just to prove to this old geezer that his hocus pocus curse doesn't exist!"

"Thanks, Seto!" Mokuba eagerly grabbed the pendant when the old man reluctantly handed it over. The necklace seemed unnaturally warm for having only been in the old man's hand a brief moment, but the heat lasted only for a second. Abruptly, the lights flickered and went off as a roll of thunder boomed in the distance.

"Why, isn't this classic?" Kaiba gave a laugh, utterly amused. "Want me to fix your electrical problem for you?"

The lights came back on as suddenly as they had gone off, Mokuba staring at the dragon charm in his hand, positive the eyes had flashed yellow in the sweltering darkness.

"It's a sign, a sign I tell ye! That necklace ain't fer ye!" A shaking finger pointed directly at Mokuba. "It'll be the _death_ of ye!"

Kaiba stepped forward, no trace of mirth on his cold, hard features. "No one threatens my brother." He grabbed the finger that still was aimed at Mokuba like a wand about to explode some curse. About to snap it for the clerk, he ceased as Mokuba intervened.

"Seto, don't! I'm fine, see? Let's just go."

Kaiba didn't move for a long while, then slowly, stiffly, he released the finger and slammed down a written check, one written before the flickering of the lights.

"Keep the change…use it to fix the lights." Coldly casting back one glance, Kaiba strode over to the door, going through when a man in a black suit opened it.

The clerk stared after the two wealthy Kaibas and their two guards as they left the rundown shop for a limousine.

"Those boys'll be regrettin' that purchase. 'O course, by then, I'll be long gone." He smirked.


	7. Six: Murmurs of Ancient Evil

Chapter Six: Murmurs of Ancient Evil

_I found that kid who must have hurt my brother. I'd been watching for potential bullies when I went to pick him up from school, and I also had some goons set up as spies complete with cameras in their glasses to prove that this creep had been picking on Mokuba._

_It shouldn't be a problem anymore. But I didn't inform Mokuba of anything that happened. Still, I'll watch to make sure no new injuries occur.

* * *

_

All the ride home, Mokuba stared at his newest treasure.

The dragon was made of a silver metal, the deep grooves blackened and enabling the shining silver lines of its writhing, curling body to stand out more. But nothing stood out more than the glittering eyes made of some smooth gem. Its color was indeterminable. In fact, it seemed to change what color it was according to what direction one gazed on it or how the light reflected on it. Even discovering that, Mokuba wasn't at all certain the eyes changed or flashed only from that. It seemed the pendant had a personality, an aura emitted and it was through that the eyes changed.

But that was nonsense.

And so, dragging his eyes away from the scales that seemed to have been sliding in on its knotted self, Mokuba turned to look out the window, aware that his older brother had been watching him.

"Thanks for my birthday present!" he said cheerily, hoping it would take his brother's mind off the sudden love he had for such a strange item. It wasn't that the younger Kaiba feared his brother would ever take the legend about it seriously; it was more that Mokuba didn't usually act so taken about a piece of jewelry. He was excited for things, sure, but never so much that he'd gaze mesmerized at it.

And Mokuba didn't want his brother to have _any_ reason to think anything was out of the ordinary—didn't want him to have any reason to take away the pendant.

As both brothers gazed out their respective windows again, their attention more on just how the other's body was stiffly unmoving as they kept aware of just where the other's consciousness was, the dragon's eyes had a strip of light that went over both of them slowly, making a red haze.

* * *

The morning's light breached the inner sanctum, and as its poisonous rays reached out over the smooth eyes, a small glow of their own shone brighter than the sun before finally settling down and allowing the foreign light to be its eyes. But below the surface, bubbling and seething, a molten pool of lava waiting to explode, the awareness waited. A trickle of what appeared to be smoke came from the dragon's nostrils, and the tiny scent wafted into the air.

When Mokuba was fully awake, however, the scent disintegrated and the charm returned to just that: a dragon charm on a string.

Mokuba fumbled out of bed quickly, smiling when he saw his newest addition to his outfit. Now, instead of just his single card locket, the dragon pendant was around his neck and resting heavily on its twining string, though under his shirt was where he placed it.

"Morning, Seto!" he said brightly, plopping down in a chair to eagerly pour himself a bowl of the cereal sitting out for him. Knowing his brother, Mokuba was certain Kaiba had been up for hours before.

"Good morning, kid. I'm glad you're still wearing that thing today. Since you waited so long for it, you'd better keep interested in it for awhile."

Surprised, Mokuba saw it had already leaped free from under his shirt. "Like I would just forget it the day after I got it! Come on, Seto, you know I like it more than that."

His brother did not reply, just sat across from him at the table, glancing at the boy's wardrobe choice and pulling over the newspaper. Mokuba had no doubt that Seto had already read anything of importance in the paper long hours previously or had known about it before it was even printed. Something had his older brother slightly on edge.

Could it possibly be this necklace? Did Seto actually believe in the story behind it?

"School starts soon," Kaiba said then, breaking Mokuba's worried thoughts. He put it all behind him and made certain everything was in his bag as he dropped off his bowl at the sink.

"Oh, yeah, how could I forget? Seto, you have to sign this!" He dug out a piece of paper creased and slightly crumpled from his bag; it looked like it was relieved to finally be able to breathe in the crisp mansion air.

"How could you forget?" Seto repeated and smirked. "We were going to that rundown shop yesterday and you raced through everything of your homework so quickly I wouldn't be surprised if you had the same answers for everything; yes, the same answers even for math and English and…art."

"I'm not that bad!" he protested, handing over the paper he had tried hard to smooth, but the wrinkles were forever imbedded on the paper, just as they were for people no matter how much botox treatment they had. "I might have been a little excited for the shop but—"

"A _little_ excited? You were jumping up and down to hasten me out the door. You didn't even use a dictionary to look up your vocabulary, and I seem to recall you making some errors on that before."

"It was late then! I bet I have it all perfect!"

"Oh? It's a deal, then, the bet's on. Hand it over for me to check and I'll sign this slip."

Mokuba groaned, but he had gotten himself into this predicament. He eased out the rest of his folders holding his various assignments and the collection of other useless old paper that would start a better fire in his backpack at the bottom of the ocean than trigger up his memory to do well on some test he'd have in the future weeks.

Kaiba's head was utterly still on his neck as his eyes scanned over the assignments with startling alacrity. Mokuba was becoming dubious that his brother was even checking the answers properly. Who had done it faster? Kaiba checking them over or Mokuba filling in the answers?

Watching his brother in silence, Mokuba began fidgeting and playing with the zipper at the bottom of his light jacket. It wasn't like it would take his brother long to check his work, and yet, Mokuba thought the few minutes that passed seemed endless, especially with how quickly his brother had started checking answers. A snail stuck in molasses and having a broken body oozing toward the beach…that was how the minutes crawled by him as the vice-president of Kaiba Corporation awaited to see his score. After his argument, he didn't want to be wrong.

A small quirk played at the edges of Seto's mouth, and still he continued to look over the sheets his brother had handed to him in stubborn acquiescence.

"You're done, aren't you, Seto?" Mokuba asked suddenly. "And you're just taking so long in order to torture me!"

"My, my, so quick to attack me. No wonder; all these assignments are done in undecipherable little chicken sprawl; that way you could argue you had the right answer simply because no one could debate against you in any proof."

"My handwriting can't be that bad!"

"Oh? Just because you say so?"

"No, because I saw it all. I can read everything myself! Maybe you should wear your glasses, Seto, then you could, too."

"I don't need glasses, Mokuba," his brother commented wryly as his eyes returned to the paper.

"Oh? That's not what the eye doctor said. I saw that little note from him last time. How old is it?"

"Four years. For your information, those low numbers I scored don't mean I need glasses; they mean I see better than most people, than the average person."

"Huh? Really? You can see like a hawk!"

"No, they can see far better, as I would hope you'd know."

"I do know! I was just checking if _you_ know." Mokuba crossed his arms and gave a stern look the reflection of his brother's. Still, though his physical appearance mimed and echoed Kaiba's, a certain atmosphere of authority and command was not at all present and he thereby lacked any chance of seeming like his brother at all.

"I see," Seto said dryly, finally handing back the papers to his younger sibling.

Then, as Mokuba stood and waited, Kaiba collected his own portfolio with his piles of research and homework that he had done weeks ahead of time, heading to the door.

Mokuba jogged after him, trying to look up at his brother's face as his arms struggled to keep all his things in order when none of it was packed orderly in his sack.

"Well?"

His brother remained silent as he trotted out to the car behind Seto's long strides.

"How'd I do?"

The door opened and both brothers climbed in the back seat, letting the driver shut the door after them. Settling himself as if he were in a business meeting and in the attention of everyone worthwhile on the planet, Kaiba crossed his legs and sat up straight despite the plushy seats of their limousine.

Practically bouncing in impatience and curiosity, Mokuba was at his brother's side, looking earnestly into the teenager's face.

"Come on, tell me!"

Finally, catching sight of the brightness in his brother's eyes—nothing else, not even a slight tremble of the mouth, gave away his mood—Mokuba kneeled higher on the seat and looked directly into Seto's eyes.

"I must've done a lot better than you thought, huh?"

"You might want to check numbers four, eleven, and thirty-seven, and your definition of 'ecstasy' is faulty."

"Huh?"

"It's not just a street drug; it had a meaning as a word before those apathetic losers ever stole it to represent their idiotic denials of accountability and justifications to commit callous actions completely unforgivable because of said actions' pointlessness, immorality, and irresponsibility."

"To represent their _what?"_

"Psychological addiction."

"Oh." He leaned back, contemplating through what his brother said.

Finally, as time went on and their schools were both coming close, he said casually, "Three mistakes out of three and a half assignments? Not bad, was it, Seto?"

His brother grunted.

"I take after you, don't I?"

Seto was looking out the window.

"I mean, I bet the other kids did tons worse."

Silence.

"Looks like I don't need to go to class anymore if I can do so well on these types of assignments that were supposed to take hours and I cruised through them in the forty minutes before we left for the shop. Maybe I should be doing more with Kaiba Corp. Maybe I could type up some reports for you!"

"All right, fine: you did well. Don't push it, kid."

Mokuba smiled, turning his attention back to his own window where the reflection of the dragon pendant shone in a translucent form, watching him carefully.

His brother was proud of him.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews! I can't thank you guys enough. They truly lit up my return to the dorm room, which is, one of the loneliest places conceivable if you ask me. I love reading what questions you have and what reaction you have, too, so thanks again!


	8. Seven: The Authority Teachers Hold

Chapter Seven: The Authority Teachers Hold

_Something startling happened today._

_Mokuba wasn't at the window to wave goodbye to me. _

_Not a curtain stirred to indicate he was more hidden than usual or just slower to get there. He's never done either of the two before, but I was searching for excuses._

_There is no excuse. Somehow, my brother is being driven away from me. No matter how I try to get closer to him, I can't seem to get him to talk to me the way he used to. It started with those wounds, and now, it's just encompassing everything.

* * *

_

The gang was strewn all over Yugi's room, taking up so much space with their prone forms that its usual disarray was buried under the moaning shapes of his friends.

"I can't believe we have all that work to do," Téa said dramatically, putting a hand to her forehead as if to keep her brain from leaking out into a goopy mass in its attempt to escape the torture.

"Well, don't do it. Dat's what me and Tristan always do. Or don't do, I guess. And Yuge, too, right?"

There were muted nods from both of them; apparently, speaking was too much effort at the moment.

"No wonder you're always on the bottom of the yearly tests! You'll never find work if you don't pull your grades up to at least _passing_."

"Well, passin' isn't whud I care 'bout. I'd rather spend time wid my friends."

"We're doing _so much_ right now, too." Téa's eyes rolled.

Bakura, the only member of the gang sitting up, cross-legged, opened his dark brown eyes wider. "We'd be doing more if we actually attempted to do what the teacher assigned us for the group project." He sighed as he thought about who his partner was. "I mean, at the least, you four can do your work!"

Yugi sat up now, understanding Bakura's problem. "Want to call him up to see if he's free?"

Unlike the rest of the gang, Yugi and Téa picking each other for partners and Tristan and Joey becoming the next set, Bakura was left without a friend to work with him on the project. And the only other person in the class who had not chosen a partner by the time the teacher had asked to see groups was none other than the CEO of Kaiba Corporation.

"I'm working alone," Kaiba had said with no degree of doubt in his voice.

"This is a partner assignment, and being able to work in groups is part of what the assignment is graded on," the teacher had replied, unfazed. She had adjusted her glasses and looked straight into the dark eyes of a certain white-haired youth. "Bakura, you don't have a partner, either, correct?"

Bakura had been frightened then, though he didn't know which frightened him more: being without a partner on this huge project or perhaps being stuck with Kaiba.

"Uh…no," he had said softy, ducking his head to avoid being withered by the glare sent his way by the taller-than-average teen in a somewhat nearby chair.

"Then that settles it. Kaiba, you and Bakura are partners."

And that _had_ certainly settled it. Neither one had said a word to the other though Bakura had been very close to asking what topic Kaiba had in mind. Just seeing the laser-blue stare focused entirely on his books, Bakura had backed off.

"He'll probably do the whole thing himself," Bakura mumbled now. "If he hasn't already."

"Man, I wish Kaiba'd been _my_ pardner! Den I'd still ace de ding and not have t' do a single piece a'work." He glanced over at Tristan. "You wouldn't dink of doing dat for me, would ya?"

Snorting, Tristan flung some game piece at his friend. "I can't believe you suggested it at all! We just finished saying how lazy we are."

"Awright, fine, fine. I wuz just checkin', awright? Guess it was too much t' hope for when my partner was _you_."

"Hey, you're no better!" Tristan sat up, insulted enough to find energy. He flung something harder and heavier at Joey, who gave a yelp and launched himself at Tristan. The two were soon wrestling with as much gusto as they kept reserved for eating, and as startled Yugi was, his room was already so messy that their fighting didn't make much change to the place.

"Guys, cut it out!" Téa shouted, her shrill tone making the two of them wince and stop to cover their ears.

"Couldn't ya have warned us or someding?"

"Then what good would it have been?" Téa crossed her arms and turned back to Yugi and Bakura. "And is there really any reason to protest if Kaiba is going to do all the work for you? Just take your luck."

"But-but, it isn't right!"

Yugi nodded gravely. "I understand, Bakura. So what should we do? Pay him a visit? Talk to Mokuba? Or call him?" he suggested again.

Bakura put a hand over his face. "None of the above sounds likely to leave me capable of doing my fair share of the work and still have my life attached to this bodily form."

"Oh, ya dink he's gonna attack ya, do ya? We'll show dat Kaiba, won't we, Tristan?"

"Of course we will, Joey-man. We'll show him our backsides as we leave his estate running as quickly as possible."

"Awright, let's go!" Joey jumped to his feet again ready to charge down until he slowly heard what Tristan actually said. "Ya wuss! Ya girl scout! Scared a'de li'l Kaiba? Never dought my friends would be frightened a'him!"

Nervously, Bakura looked around the room at all his friends. Most were still, gazing around to avoid seeing Joey's questioning look. With a sigh that indicated defeat, the white-haired young man climbed to his feet daintily and nodded to Yugi. "It looks like I'll have to do one of those, and I'll opt for the one that is most likely to let me live for the next twenty-four hours. May I please use your phone, Yugi?"

"Sure, Bakura. Just make certain Grandpa isn't eavesdropping on you. He never knows when something is private or not."

With an angry flush, Téa nodded. "I'd say!" She, at least, still recalled some of the perverted things Solomon Moto had said to her when she was coming over to Yugi's after school. If Yugi didn't appear within three minutes even these days she felt uncomfortable. It looked like the one thing that was always on boys' minds remained there all the way to death. (1)

Heart thumping stronger than the little beeps of the phone, Bakura's pale fingers punched in the number that was part of the school directory and hoped Kaiba hadn't put in some fake number or a security one. All he wanted was to get his homework straightened out before it was due in two weeks.

The phone on the other end rang once before a voice picked it up and asked what he could help Bakura with. "You've reached the Kaiba estate. May I ask your business and name, please?"

Throat being suddenly clogged, Bakura cleared it and answered softly, "It's Ryo Bakura calling to speak with Seto Kaiba about a school project. He's my partner."

"Hold on," the secretary said, the scratching of a pencil indicating the voice's owner was taking notes. Then the line began to play some light music and Bakura knew he'd been put on hold. The fact that this had been Kaiba's home phone number and he had a secretary along with his own holding music should have made Bakura amused at least, but the boy was too worried to appreciate the expertise of the orchestra.

At the other end of the phone line, the secretary buzzed Mr. Kaiba and passed along the message, asking what he should tell the student on the other end of the line.

Mind dwelling elsewhere, Kaiba recalled his school project with a jolt of annoyance. If that teacher hadn't forced him to have a partner…well, the work was already mostly finished. He was certain Bakura wouldn't mind that he had no work to do for it.

"Just transfer the call to me," he said over the intercom, aware of his younger brother sitting in his home office glance up in interest. The last time Seto had gotten a home call from anyone other than business people was when a persistent telemarketer had disguised the real intention of his call and made it all the way to Kaiba with his false information before admitting he wanted to sell something.

"You can't tell a telemarketer or realize when someone's story doesn't work at all with what we're doing at the office? Why would I have been expecting a phone call from Industrial Illusions? I've been through with them for years!" That had been the mistake of the last secretary before this new one had arrived.

Playing with his dragon pendant, watching the eyes change color in the glass, Mokuba strained all his hearing toward his brother and all his attention on appearing as if he were doing no such thing. He doubted it worked with Seto, but it was always worth a try.

"Bakura. I told you not to worry; I've got everything under control."

"Yes, but we're—"

"It doesn't matter. I'm nearly finished and I'm sure we'll get a good grade."

"Part of the grade is on tea—"

"Oh? Who's going to say we didn't work together?"

A small silence fell over the line, and while the tension was nearly thick enough to see like a hazy smoke, Bakura's hesitant voice finally came back. "I'm not going to lie, Kaiba."

"I'm not asking you to lie."

Even more intrigued, Mokuba shifted position very slightly and went back to staring at his open math book without doing any of the problems. His older brother had turned his back more to Mokuba and sat up straighter in his high-backed chair if that were at all possible with how rigid he had been before.

"Yes, you are. What else would you have me say?"

"Don't say anything. Just put your name on the paper and we'll turn it in. She won't know otherwise."

How can she not? Bakura was thinking, but he didn't put that thought out into the heavy air.

"Why don't you just work with him on it, Seto?" Mokuba's plan to feign disinterest had disintegrated as quickly as a slug in salt.

"I don't have time for that, Mokuba," the elder Kaiba snapped before returning his attention to the phone call. He had not even cast a glance back at his brother with his head or even moved his eyes from where they were focused.

Unperturbed by what his brother's mood sounded like, Mokuba suddenly snapped his fingers. "I've got it! Seto, let me talk with him! I want to invite all of the gang over for a little excitement. We can even make it a sleepover. My birthday party!"

"Excuse me, Bakura." Putting a hand over the receiver, he turned to Mokuba. "Your birthday was a few months ago, Mokuba. There's no reason for a party now." He gave up trying to finish talking to Bakura, but simply hanging up was out of the question. Cynical, scathing, and biting he might be, but as a businessman, Seto Kaiba was not simply rude without good reason. And while it was tempting to think of making his point to his fellow student by slamming down the receiver, he had to admit that it wasn't a good enough reason to completely ignore the polite mannerisms his mother would have been proud to see him with.

"A sleepover between friends," Mokuba continued stubbornly, "for my birthday or just because I feel like having one. Come on, Seto, I've never had one before. Can't I just once, please?"

"A slumber party is for girls," he muttered in return, still doing his best to block the other end of the line from hearing this.

"Is not! It's for anyone who wants one! And I never said slumber party, I said a get together for friends and they happen to spend the night, too. My grades impressed you, I know it. Can't you give me some sort of reward for that? It'd convince me that it's good to do well in school, cement the teaching, you know, a type of conditioning. Pavlav's dogs."

"_Not_ Pavlav's dogs. That would be classical conditioning, when hearing a bell at the same time as seeing food triggers saliva. This is the other kind of conditioning—operant conditioning that means the consequence of the action determines whether or not the action is repeated."

Giving an unconcerned shrug, Mokuba persisted, "So, it's a type of conditioning that would ensure I know doing well in school is important."

"It's not that easy, Mokuba. We're higher-level beings; we know about consequences to actions enough that a simple reward doesn't always mean that. And the reward should fit the action; getting good grades is enough of a reward for that."

Getting into a discussion with someone who was known as a genius never had good prospects. Mokuba had as much a chance of winning as a baby did when haggling for a cheaper price at buying goods.

"But it'd be a reward nonetheless, and that in itself would give me a strong knowledge that I was doing the right thing. Besides, being a higher-order being would mean that the reward doesn't necessarily have to fit the action; I can assign the meaning myself and understand it while a rodent or something couldn't."

Particularly proud of that argument, Mokuba beamed up at his brother, wondering if he even had a distant hope of seeing the discussion end there or if he would be forced to think again of some point on the spot.

Just by the tiniest of lights in Seto's eyes and the bit of quirk around his mouth, Mokuba knew he had made a valid point and Seto was pleased with him.

Raising the phone back to his ear, Kaiba said brusquely, "Bakura? Yes, tell everyone that my brother has invited them over for a party on Friday night—the one immediately before the assignment is due—and we can do the project then. Satisfied? All right, good-bye." Hanging up without giving the other a chance to stop stuttering or even ask if the gang could make it, Kaiba stood and looked sternly at his brother.

"Watch out, kiddo. That saying of being careful what you wish for came about for some reason, and I think one day you're going to figure out why."

He exited the room with his large strides, leaving Mokuba pondering what he had said and wondering just why a small dark seed had blossomed in his belly and seemed to be sending its shoots throughout the rest of him when his brother had been jesting.

* * *

(1): Reference to the manga, and no insult intended. The phrase was said in Téa's point of view, not the author's. 


	9. Eight: Stirrings of Unease

Chapter Eight: Stirrings of Unease

_For weeks, I have had no reason to write in this. But now, another action has happened. Or, at least, it must have happened._

_My mind seems to be leaving me. Something has happened here. I know it. I just can't understand what it is…a visitor came by, I remember that. But now, things between my brother and I are tense, and I can't figure out why._

_My hand hurts a little, just a dull throb, but it's really annoying me for no plausible reason. When I look at it, it seems foreign to me._

_Something happened this night, but I have no clue what it is…

* * *

_

A party! His brother had allowed him to have a party!

"I'll get to show Yugi just what I found at the shop he told me about," Mokuba whispered to himself, gazing at the pendant around his neck. The flickering of the eyes caught his attention and he stared at their changing colors for an unlimited amount of time. Then, shaking his head, Mokuba came out of his trance-like state and smirked at himself. "I'm being silly. Seto would laugh."

Sending a roving eye over his room, he took in the piles of collected debris with nary a flinch and finally settled on the one he wanted. "Aha! It ought to be in here somewhere."

As his brother rarely came into this room, mostly because the sight of it would horrify him, Mokuba felt no pressure to keep up a tidy room and lunged to a pile of books, old games, one stuffed bear, and mounds of old school drawings.

"I thought this was good?" He made a face and moved aside one picture of a rainbow that couldn't even have twisted itself into the right arc shape it was so deformed.

There, hiding at the bottom of the pile as if in wait for this very moment, Mokuba pulled free a yellowing book filled with childish ghost stories. Remembering how frightened they had made him—explaining why it was at the bottom of such an old stack—Mokuba knew they'd be perfect for the party. After all, what was a slumber party, one in a mansion at that, without a few creepy horror tales?

Flipping through the pages that smelled dusty though in truth, the book had been buried so well the book was not filigreed with it, Mokuba made a face.

"I thought these were _good_? They wouldn't make Seto sniff in disdain they're so pathetic! _Joey_ wouldn't even squirm hearing these pathetic stories."

Tossing the book to the top of the stack probably so that the book could grow as dusty as it reeked, Mokuba sat on the edge of his bed, resisting the temptation to swing his legs. They were too long, for one thing, and it was too childish for another. After all, he was _twelve_ now.

"But you wouldn't know it from what I've seen written about me." He heaved a great sigh, falling back on his bed to see if the ceiling could offer any enlightenment to his predicament. As could be expected, the smooth white plaster sent him off into a daze and so did indeed shove his mind spiraling off into new directions where great ideas dwelled in wait for very moments such as these.

"Maybe I could just _make_ some ghosts…kind of like before." Death-T was never something the boy wanted to remember, but it had happened, and the truth was that the boy's older brother had used his brain and come up with plenty of brilliant ideas for it. Maybe their own haunted mansion would be a good attraction for the party. Of course, this time it would completely safe.

Or so he believed as the dragon's eyes sparkled a distant orange.

* * *

Giving in to his brother's every whim wasn't a good habit to be in, but how could Kaiba resist giving his brother a treat on those uncommon days he asked for one? Mokuba deserved a bit of compensation for being able to have the guts to debate with Kaiba and actually make sense during it, at least. Not to mention looking at him eye to eye during the entire thing. 

Of course, this was one of the worst favors Mokuba had ever asked for, or according to Kaiba anyway, and as he returned to his office to sit heavily in his swiveling chair, the lanky CEO stared intently at his screen saver, not truly seeing the fish swimming by it or the bubbles going upward.

Various horrors crossed his mind involving what could happen with the ragtag group of teens in his house. Obviously, they wouldn't be used to luxury; Kaiba would count on them all to be staring and gaping.

Heh…maybe he'd have some fun toying with Wheeler. A person could always count on that mutt to make some amusement for another. After all, he was so easy to toy with, so blessedly simple to aggravate.

Still, now was not the time to contemplate nightmares or interesting diversions; Kaiba had to get ahead in his Kaiba Corporation work if he were going to cater to some kids on the weekend after next.

* * *

"How odd," Bakura said as he set down the phone. "I never would have expected that." 

"Huh? What's going on, Bakura?"

Four pairs of highly different eyes focused on the accented youth and he turned a faint shade of pink.

"Oh…Kaiba asked all of us to his house for a sleepover."

"Eh? What? Kaiba! I don't believe it!"

"Well, actually, it was Mokuba, not Kaiba. And he even said we'd work on the project at that time."

"That's great, Bakura! I'm glad you got Kaiba to see reason!"

"See reason? He ain't actin' at all like himself, Yuge. Lettin' de kid invite us ova? He musta been whacked over de head or somedin' 'cause Kaiba'd never do someding like dat in his right mind!"

"Joey has a point. I won't go over willingly."

"Maybe you just misheard, Bakura. Did he sound at all sarcastic, the arrogant jerk that he is? Or maybe he'd just sound like a machine considering how much time he spends with them, even now that his brother is free from Pegasus."

"…No. He sounded quite natural. I heard Mokuba talking with him before the invitation. It sounded completely serious to me. And I think the brothers are closer than you believe, Téa."

"Why are you all so shocked, guys? This is _Kaiba_ we're talking about. He's our _friend_!"

"Only yours, Yuge. And I can't undastand how dat happened, eeda." Joey scratched his head, as if contemplating how he had ever let Yugi out of his protection long enough to make his best bud suffer such a horrible experience as befriending Seto Kaiba.

"Remember Death-T? I was left in a room to be buried under rocks, but for Mokuba. Now, I may not trust Kaiba, but I'd at least ask Mokuba if his brother seriously gave him permission before scorning them both." He looked around at Joey and Téa staring at him; Bakura, having been filled in on the experiences of Death-T long before, still looked worried. "I owe him that much, all right?"

Going over to his room to shut the door now that all voices had become calm and normal-toned for inside, Yugi sat down on his bed looking like a stuffed doll for how short he was and how strange his hair. His punk outfit didn't fit in with the safe, cuddly, cute toys that parents normally gave children, however.

Glancing down at the glinting Puzzle that shone gold in the false light, Yugi said brightly, "I think Tristan's right. Mokuba's our friend, and I'd think you could all see reason for going just for that point even if you don't feel like Kaiba's friend. Of course, you're going to work on that project there, Bakura," he added hastily.

"Awright, fine, we owe de kid at least. And as much as I'd love ta go wreak havoc in de Kaiba mansion, I'd radda not anga Kaiba. Anymore den I do by breathin'," he added somewhat in consternation.

Yugi just shook his head in disbelief at how little his other friends trusted Kaiba. After all, Yugi had been through the events of Death-T as well, and even that didn't make Kaiba the evilest person to walk on the earth. At least, not to him.

To certain others, forgiveness was impossible, even if their voices didn't speak it aloud right then.


	10. Nine: Myth to Reality

Chapter Nine: Myth to Reality

_My brother seems to have gotten a new wound. He won't let me look at it, but the servant who cleaned it up said it was ugly. Not only a bruise this time, but a cut as well, like some heavy, pointed object had cut into him._

_It wasn't that bully. I know for a fact it hadn't been him. He's been being watched for twenty-four hours every day, and he was not even in school the day Mokuba was injured this last time._

_Mokuba refuses to talk about it, and I can't figure out why. He won't even make up something about falling or being ignorant. He simply doesn't answer my questions. I can't force him to talk if he won't._

_But it hurts to know he doesn't seem to trust me.

* * *

_

Just one and one-half weeks to go until the sleepover! That hastened Mokuba more in the morning than any thoughts of school or homework. Or maybe it was that when he awoke, he was able to fill his eyes with the pendant that he wore every day without fail; he was able to see that which filled his dreams every night. That certainly made him more excited than spending time with his high school friends. Even more excited than seeing a small, pleased smile adorning his brother's face whenever he came down the stairs in great excitement.

Kaiba's eyes did, indeed, inevitably alight on his younger brother when Mokuba came down the stairs, and there the tiniest hints of a smile teased at the edges of his stern unfazed expression. But after resting on his brother, as Mokuba turned his attention to devouring the closest food item at hand, Seto's eyes floated, as usual, down the boy's face to the necklace, the amulet that rested, as always, no matter how often Mokuba shoved it down his shirt, atop a certain card pendant.

And removing his attention from that was more difficult than setting his lips in the unusual upward arc.

With great difficulty, Kaiba tried to start some conversation or send his thoughts to the newspaper in his hand.

"Everything finished for today?"

"If it wasn't," Mokuba said with a sour face, "it'd be a little late to do anything about it."

"You don't think I could stand over you and be so intimidating that you'd finish any work in fifteen minutes? That's unfortunate…I have struggled so hard to become such an awe-inspiring figure, and if my own baby brother doesn't see it, then I must have failed somewhere."

Suppressing any laughter that wanted to escape, Mokuba kept his features utmost serious. "I suppose you did fail, then, big brother. You don't seem intimidating at all to me. Just…funny. Funny looking."

"Ha-ha," Seto said derisively, debating whether to do something so immature as fling some cereal at his brother. "Well, if you think my features are so utterly amusing, you ought to look into a mirror once. No, wait!" he added in mock horror. "You'd frighten away any atomic bonds and cause the mirror to go back to its miniscule start as individual grains of sand."

Raising his eyebrows so high they became buried in his disheveled raven hair, Mokuba let his scoffing look remain for a full minute. "Really, Seto, why don't you just use 'break' or something?"

"What fun is that?" Kaiba replied with one of his usual smirks.

"It might make your taunts easier to understand and so keep the mood light instead of stifling with me struggling to make out what you're saying."

"Oh, come on, if you don't know what I'm talking about, then you're not studying your vocabulary enough."

"I study a lot!"

Shaking his head, he focused once on the dragon that seemed to be smirking at him in utter glee, smugly resting on Mokuba's chest on top of the card locket. "Then you obviously don't have a grasp for the finer points of the language, Mokuba, because what I said was blatantly obvious."

Instantly, Kaiba could not understand why his tone had turned so sharp or his words so harsh. Almost, the action seemed out of his control, but his condescending tongue had said them. He was too ashamed and startled to instantly snatch them back from the air, which was more akin to paper that, once being smeared with dark etchings, could never be perfectly clean again or could take back what had once rested there.

Mokuba's face stared at his brother, mouth slightly agape and spoonful of cheerios letting down an awkward drip of milk once or twice. The silence emphasized the imperfect, out of tempo drops, and it was only when Mokuba shoved back his chair and stood, face hurt and trying to hide such feelings at the same that Kaiba could even move.

"Let's get to school then, so I can try to learn more," Mokuba said hurriedly, already half out the door with his bag in hand.

Kaiba quickly stood, muttering a curse to himself darkly. "Mokuba—wait!"

The door had already shut behind him, and the final sound of that was only second to the look of utter pain and shame in Mokuba's large eyes.

The limo ride to school was silent as neither could summon enough courage to speak from where the resolve had plummeted to the ground and been left back at their house. Both boys were dropped off at the classes without another sound exchanged between either of them, and as both stumbled through their day wondering why it had all gone so wrong already, they forgot completely about the approaching party.

The dragon's eyes sparkled red in its happiness.

* * *

They didn't speak to each other after school. 

Mokuba was obviously still hurt, and Kaiba could not figure out how best to approach him and make amends. _Was_ there any way to make amends? An older brother cannot just say he was sorry and expect things to go back to normal; actions were invariably more persuasive than any words, and yet, they could be faked as well.

To enter the sanctuary, the one place Mokuba could be free of him and feel protected and take away the only area where he would not feel on guard? Kaiba couldn't do that to Mokuba. And so, he stayed away from his brother, as he felt was best.

Drumming his fingers on his table, Kaiba stared at the pitifully few numbers on the screen and released a gusto sigh. His filial problems were not helping him get work done at all.

"It's my fault," he finally said aloud. "I have to be the one to apologize because I was the one who went so far." And he couldn't stand another moment of utter silence in his room. So used to Mokuba's pencil skidding across the surface of his homework and his little rearrangements of position, Kaiba could not concentrate at all. He couldn't believe that in such a quick moment, he had managed to cause such pain to his younger brother.

Rising, thinking that the common action of straightening himself seemed to take forever, Kaiba paused at his door, one hand on the doorknob.

"If I don't apologize, things will continue to be this tortuous," he said quietly. The words gave him the inspiration he needed, and the CEO of Kaiba Corporation who could criticize a competitor or employee with never the thought of an apology flitting across his mind, who wanted as many people as possible fearing him as possible—he could not stand thinking Mokuba was frightened of him or upset. Or worse: that Seto was disappointed in him.

Planning over what he thought he'd say when he arrived, Kaiba kept a steady tempo down the hall to his mental thoughts. Whenever he slowed in debate over whether such a line were truly needed or not, his pace turned to keep steady with a crawling baby. And, when he was highly determined to get it all finished and take the blame for everything, his strides were long and full.

"Mokuba, I don't know what came over me," he began muttering to himself all over again.

He paused. That line was so overused and pathetic it would not explain anything. With a sigh, Kaiba moved forward. "Mokuba, I know what I did was wrong." That sounded much better—taking responsibility was always important.

"I am only hoping you might find it somewhere within you to hear me out and let me tell you how sorry I am." Much too formal and stiff. No one said those things aloud for real. Only in books did characters spew such nonsense.

All too soon, the boy's door was before him, barred and forever closed to him. The only other times Mokuba's door had been shut had been when he was wrapping some special surprise for his brother or trying to hide away some creature he wanted as a pet. Or worse, it was a combination of the two. Needless to say, Kaiba had always known Mokuba had been up to something and knew that a closed door meant it ought to be opened. Immediately.

This time, however, the closed door just reiterated the fact that Kaiba couldn't easily slip in anymore and feel like he belonged. Being chased out as his brother had a small tantrum over Seto most likely seeing a surprise gift seemed ages ago.

And now, feeling the loss like seeing a drop of water evaporate onto the sand of an endless desert, he would have given anything to get it back.

"Well, that's what I'm here for." Kaiba gave a quick two knocks on his brother's door and instantly strained to hear any reaction.

"Whaddya want?" came a mumbled response. Almost, Kaiba could envisage Mokuba strewn belly-down on the bed, staring at the floor or the wall across from him, maybe trying to do homework in such a position.

"I want to apologize," Kaiba said softly.

To no one else would he ever humble himself with such words. And he prayed and fervently hoped he wouldn't ever have to do it to Mokuba again. That there'd be no need.

Slowly, after a long pause, feet tread over to the door and the handle spiraled in one direction. Like a game show that was about to reveal what was behind door number three, Seto stood and waited, nearly holding his breath and tightening his hands into fists.

"Mokuba," he said through a suddenly-tightening throat, constricting faster than the doors people always managed to roll or slide under in films. "May I come in?"

Silently, the boy looked up at his brother, expression carefully neutral and blank as he turned and walked back into his room without a word. But he hadn't disagreed, so Kaiba followed after the small boy, painfully aware of each footfall of his that sounded in the new-snow silence.

Giving a small sigh like none of it was worth the effort anymore, the vice-president of Kaiba Corporation sat down in a chair and mutely looked up at his brother. Even his wide, expressional eyes had been carefully schooled so no hope was in them.

Then, like the hand grasping the fruit on the forbidden tree of the Garden of Eden, Seto's cobalt eyes slid down Mokuba's face to what was—or wasn't—around his neck.

The dragon pendant caught his eye again, so innocent, as enticing as a siren song in the old myths.

Such a decoration that was so lovely and impressive didn't belong on this young boy, shouldn't adorn someone who didn't even know its power or hold a tenth of it. The image of the necklace only convinced Seto that his brother was far less than the item itself. Not as remarkable.

What a fool…acting like a grudge-holding girl. A simple slip of the tongue was all it had been. Why was he even here?

But something was worse.

His card was gone.

_His_ card…the one with his picture in it. That stupid dragon pendant had devoured it all and _taken his place_.

His rage overcame him and all he saw was blackness and twin lights of sparkling red.

"Seto?" The boy's waiting voice snapped him free from his vengeful thoughts, and as Mokuba changed position, the card with his older brother's picture in it slipped from inside his shirt to cover the dragon charm for a moment, breaking Kaiba's eye contact with the form. With a shuddering deep breath, Kaiba stared at his younger brother.

I'm becoming uncontrollable…I was going to—No! Why would I? Kaiba's thoughts spun out of control as he thought about the jealousy that had just plunged through his body with so much energy and nearly a life of its own. This was as pathetic as that story about a ring people wanted and couldn't control themselves around. Kaiba wasn't as weak as those doped-up fools in the book and movies!

Eyes so wide they were more akin to Mokuba's own than his usual ones and breath still slightly ragged, his appearance caused Mokuba to jump to his feet.

"Are you all right, Seto? Is everything okay!" He grabbed his brother's hand and tried to make Kaiba sit down in the chair he had just vacated, and stumbling submissively, Seto sat. His meek docility frightened Mokuba even more than the wild look on his face.

"I—I just wanted to apologize," the tall teen said swiftly as if he were trying to race to get all the words out before he ran out of breath or lost control. "I wasn't thinking this morning, and I didn't mean what I said at all. I'm so sorry I hurt you, Mokuba."

Eyes concerned, Mokuba looked up at his brother who was determinedly avoiding his face "It's all right, Seto. I didn't think you really meant it. But I still thought it best to go to my room to study so you would have no excuse to criticize any breaks I took, just in case…" Leaving his sentence hanging, Mokuba uncomfortably shrugged and looked once more at his older brother.

Slowly, Kaiba's gaze became focused and his expression was back to its usual imposing stare. Seeing his worried brother, however, made him crack a tiny smile even while his eyes held some nameless confusion and…fear.

"I'm glad, Mokuba. And I'm not about to criticize you for how you do your homework. How could I ever criticize you?" He said it loud enough for Mokuba to hear, but from his now-standing position and thoughtful tone, Mokuba was uncertain if the question were directed at him for reassurance or if it were directed at Seto himself.

Going through the door, Kaiba tripped and vanished down the hall, and all that was missing to make him appear any blinder was a walking stick or his hands out in front of him. Pursing his brow, Mokuba chewed his lip and wondered what had happened to make his brother act so strange.


	11. Ten: Countdown

Chapter Ten: Countdown

_My brother planned a surprise for my birthday and yet, it was not one I readily wanted. Let it suffice to say that things weren't exactly…pleasant. Still, I didn't mean to get as upset as I did, but Mokuba eventually went up to his room and once more closed the door. To me. _

_Now, my throat hurting and mind reeling, not to mention my emotions in some odd turmoil, I simply sit in my own room and wait for things to get back to normal. At least my birthday is over once more._

_

* * *

_

Getting back to work was more difficult than Kaiba could have imagined. The part of him that was always content to do work no matter what, the part that stayed consistent and thorough despite it all, the part of his personality that never interfered with his daily life and his daily life never got entangled up in was now distraught.

How could he just work after what had happened in that room?

"I was nearly mad at Mokuba for something as petty as him owning that dumb charm. What came over me?"

What came over him was too easy to figure out. He had been mad, so enraged, so incensed and infuriated that he could have…

No.

His thoughts never let him go any further. Seto Kaiba might be cold and uncaring to everyone in the world, but he would never contemplate or let cross his mind that he might have stolen that necklace and done anything to get it, even hit his little brother.

* * *

The sleepover was creeping closer, much too slowly for the boy who had begged it to be allowed. Even the members of the gang who couldn't see Mokuba's enthusiastic anticipation each day were giving silly grins to one another when they saw Kaiba striding by in the hallways. 

"Ready for the party on Friday?"

"Sure am. Can't wait t' tear apart de Kaiba mansion!" Joey and Tristan exchanged looks and did an embarrassing dance in the middle of the crowd of high school students.

"Ugh…" Téa walked faster with Yugi. "We don't know them, right?"

The short punk gave a weak chuckle, but he was hard pressed to keep himself from joining in with the visible excitement that his friends exhibited. Could this possibly be a way for Kaiba to show that he wanted to be friends with them after all?

The Millennium Puzzle that weighted down his neck with its golden form seemed to lightly glow, but the Spirit within was silent. He had been lately, and Yugi assumed it was because there had been no duels for him to partake in. Maybe Kaiba would want to duel on Friday…

In fact, all of them had something to look forward to on that day. Some wanted to see the fancy mansion and others dreamed of playing jokes and finding material that they could use to blackmail Kaiba. Bakura was highly interested in finishing his project for school, and all of them would appreciate a little quality time with Mokuba. After the Death-T match and him being kidnapped by Pegasus, they had all grown close enough to be considered good pals, so being allowed to spend time together by his older brother was quite an anticipated event.

Mostly, though, Mokuba's insistence that a big surprise would await them there kept them intrigued and excited.

"I wonda how long we could be plantin' stink bombs all ova 'fore he noticed?"

"Guys! We're not going there to tear down the place! If you do, we'll just get tossed out. And if you do that to me before I learn what Mokuba's surprise is…" Leaving the threat hang in the air at the people she "didn't know," the wannabe-dancer marched huffily down the hall to pack her bag full of homework recently assigned.

"More homework? I haven't even gotten started on that project yet." Bakura sighed.

"Soon, though," Yugi said with a smile. "And since you're with Kaiba, you can bet it'll be completed really quickly! Besides, we'll have all weekend to catch up on it all, I'm sure."

But the homework just never seemed to diminish, and all their smiles faltered as they worked relentlessly at night to complete things in time. The dream team was growing grumpy and snappish even to one another.

At the same time, Kaiba was struggling excessively _not_ to grow snappish any more than he already had. Still, the memory of his hatred overpowering him like a putrid stench gave him shudders, and sometimes, he thought it'd be better if he remained away from Mokuba rather than risk slipping again.

That prospect was as bad as what he almost had done in the first place.

* * *

On Thursday afternoon, Mokuba pranced into Kaiba's workroom and sat down with a happy squirm. 

"I don't have any homework, Seto!" The boy blissfully looked up at his older brother, expression hopeful. "Do you think…I mean, do you have time to maybe, just once, really…well, play a game with me?"

Startled, Kaiba's typing fingers faltered on the keys. Slowly, as he swiveled the chair to face his smaller brother, the CEO's face lost its rigid appearance. For once, the businessman looked as young as the age he really was.

"What game?" Ignoring the tug of his computer and other work, Kaiba focused entirely on his brother. The work could wait. He had most of it done and he _never_ had turned in anything late. And he still wouldn't.

Seeming surprised at how quickly his brother seemingly agreed, Mokuba thought quickly, nearly in a misstep for not thinking so far ahead. Usually, he didn't get this far. "How about bat gammon?"

Kaiba blinked. "Bat gammon? Why, Mokuba?"

The younger Kaiba shrugged. "It's the oldest game, I've heard. I wanted to try it out again. I wasn't very good the last time I played."

And playing again without practicing will have made you better? Seto's mouth quirked as he stood. "Fine, it's a deal. Let's play it."

Mokuba rushed out of the room ahead of Seto. His feet padded down the long hallway to some distant closet whose stow-aways had long since been deleted from Kaiba's organized mind. Games weren't on his top priority to know.

Coat sweeping out behind him, Kaiba followed his brother at a more leisurely pace, but with his long legs, he covered the ground nearly as quickly.

A few servants scuttled out the way, trying to be nondescript and attract no attention. Kaiba noted them all, but he said nothing and did not even cast a glance at them besides the corner looks he had to make sure everything was completed to his approval.

Being short, Mokuba was struggling to free the bat gammon board from the closet without burying himself under the unlimited debris from higher shelving. Obviously, no one had taken the mandatory hours to clean this closet. Not once in probably fifty years judging from how old some of the games were. The dusty scent riddled their nostrils and tickled the back of their eyes and throats, but just as Kaiba was reaching to disengage the game from the others above it, Mokuba yanked it free. An ominous thud instantly followed as another game collapsed, too weary to hold the numerous others and itself up any longer.

"Uh-oh…" Mokuba slowly backed away from the closet that was about to vomit, like the one shifting game was the series of burps that came before the retching.

Quickly, Kaiba slammed the door shut. Just in time. A collection of thudding and scuffling came slightly muted from behind the door, and bits of dust blew out the bottom crack to harass their noses once more. Games getting into fights never ended well.

"We don't want to open that door any time soon."

Mokuba, eyes wide, shook his head. "Nuh-huh. Not at all."

"Guess we'll have to play this game a lot, then, so there's an excuse not to put it away."

"All right! Or, I could keep it in my room. It wouldn't look out of place there at all, Seto. In fact, there's probably plenty of other games from that closet that found a home in there, safely snuggled amidst my things."

Raising his brows, Kaiba began to move down the hall again. "I didn't need to hear that. But it's true, I know. _Why_ don't you clean it at all?"

"Then I'll forget where everything is."

"…You know where everything is with those mounds?"

"Yup! One holds a bunch of old school things, another has mostly collectibles and souvenirs, a third holds clothes and—"

"I understand. But you'd learn where everything is eventually if you changed where you kept it. Imagine: being clean and organized and still knowing where things are!"

Mokuba glanced at him. "Where's the fun in that?"

Shaking his head, Kaiba sat down at a table and placed the game, readying the board and doling out the pieces. Sometimes, arguing was just completely pointless.

It was as he was shoving over the pile of white pieces for Mokuba that Kaiba saw once more what made his heart freeze.

That dragon was laughing at him.

It didn't make any sense, and yet, Kaiba knew. That stupid pendant found him utterly amusing and foolish and was laughing at him.

Kaiba's eyes traveled slowly up the pendant's cord past his brother's unruly hair to Mokuba's shining eyes. They looked so out of place above the dragon's eyes, above the necklace that was brimming to the top with utter amusement and derision. At him. _Him_.

Shaking his head, Seto finished setting up the game without a word.

"My turn?" Mokuba asked, aware not at all of the silent observing his brother and pendant were doing of each other. His voice, light and cheery, seemed to force some of the sunlight back into a suddenly-darkened world.

"Yes…let's play the game…"


	12. Eleven: Seto's Birthday

Chapter Eleven: Seto's Birthday

_It's been some time since I wrote in here. And I still can't write everything yet. Not only because I refuse to, but because I don't _know_ everything._

_People avoid my eyes on the street. I can't figure out why. I have always been an imposing businessman, but now, even my age-mates who once dared to talk with me and stand up to me have lost that nerve. It is as if something has happened that took away any respect they held for me. Like what happened was somehow my fault._

_And yet, a wall seems to have been built and I can think of absolutely nothing that would make me the revulsion of everyone. I am not to blame. A person like that belongs in jail, but I am walking on the streets. _

_

* * *

_

How could he have forgotten it for so long! His brother's birthday was in a few days—the twenty-fifth of October. So caught up in the excitement of what he was planning for the party, all the usual events and days had slipped past without his meaning them to.

"I need to get Seto a birthday present!" Mokuba looked lovingly at the present his brother had already gotten him and knew this birthday of his brother's had to be truly special.

"What should I do for him? A party?" Scrunching up his nose, Mokuba wondered why he had even bothered to think that. After all, as he had just witnessed—and long known—his brother despised parties. "Still, I bet he has some friends within the gang even if he doesn't want to admit it. I should invite _someone_ else over, too. Or maybe not. I wouldn't want Seto upset on his birthday."

Sighing, the vice president put his head on his hand and thought some more, the good ideas apparently hiding in the back of his mind in order not to be found.

Other years, his older brother had not much appreciated his attempts at gifts. Trying to give Seto a garter snake had proven worst of all. But Mokuba still thought his brother needed some kind of pet. Still, he wasn't about to try giving Kaiba an animal after the fiasco last time. At least the snake had escaped to outside.

What about some classical music he could play in the background as he worked? Mokuba shook his head. Seto probably wouldn't ever hear it.

This called for some discussion, and Mokuba knew just where he'd go to get it.

* * *

A walk by Mokuba's room was probably required every hour or so these days. Kaiba was not going to allow anything like the boxed snake of a previous birthday, and if his brother's room were shut, he'd think the worst. 

"Maybe I'll be lucky this year and Mokuba will get me nothing. I don't need anything." I already have all I need, he finished in his head. Then the thought of his defeat at Duel Monsters crossed his mind. Maybe there were a few things he still desired.

"I'd still be content to just celebrate my birthday alone with my brother."

After all, the regret at not being there for Mokuba's birthday was constantly present these days, and in a way, Seto hoped to make his birthday into some time for both of them to make up for his absence before.

"How could I ever tell my brother that the only thing I want is to spend time with him? I could never."

He would most certainly wish later on he had taken the time to tell his brother back then, on that day.

* * *

The servants knew his intention that his birthday pass by without a word, but as usual, they refused to obey it. After all, wishing him a good birthday and even baking a special cake for him might get them criticized aloud, but when they saw the flicker of warmth in his eyes and the smile teasing his lips, it was all worth it. Kaiba's smiles and cheerful mood had to be encouraged as often as possible. 

Nothing major ever happened. No foolish decorations or an outburst of so much excitement it was disgusting ever appeared. Such celebration was too much for the young CEO. The servants simply kept doing their tradition and relishing in the mood their master was in on that day.

Kaiba was not pleased.

"Hmph," more often than not answered any cheerful tidings noting his day of birth. "It's just when I came into the world. Nothing special about it. These 'miracles' happen all the time, and plenty of them arrive without being desired at all." In fact, Kaiba knew plenty of people who would probably mourn this day and curse his name on it.

"Cake isn't healthy," he said dryly to the cook, who simply bowed after leaving the dessert before him.

"Seto!" Mokuba cried, scandalized. "Can't you at least stop pretending you're upset and just thank them once?"

"And ruin my perfect reputation? No, thank you."

"Wouldn't having thanked workers be a better situation?"

"I think tyranny works best. Having them cowed will ensure no one ever tries to usurp me."

"Unless your constant dour attitude eventually drives one of them so insane they want to get rid of you simply to escape the life."

"Then they can quit."

"You make it hard for them to find work if they quit."

"Not impossible."

"Well, why would they want to quit and have to struggle when they could stay and be paid steadily even if the situation isn't to their liking?"

"Exactly."

Mokuba was certain he had missed something somewhere, for he had _not_ been arguing for his brother's side.

"I think you mean to point out that then they'd have better reason to get rid of _me_ instead of vice versa?" his brother queried, brows raised.

Slightly red, Mokuba decided to change the topic slightly. "Seto, even if you make it that the workers want to remain anyway, wouldn't it simply be a kind deed to make the environment one they enjoy? You'd probably manage to keep all the workers who have had enough determination to quit."

"Where do kind deeds get you, Mokuba? For many, they get you killed. At the very least, I'd end up worrying too much about my workers' states of contentment and end up living a life for them instead of myself. And what's the point of me living for them when they can live for themselves already?"

"I doubt you could take it so far as to make your entire life for others, Seto. I'm just talking about saying 'thank you' once in awhile!"

"It's all a downward slope, Mokuba. And I've already given my life to someone instead of myself; how can I give it again? That's unfair. Care for a slice of cake?"

The brothers met each other's eyes over the table. Then, Mokuba extended a plate and gobbled his slice of the fluffy texture, making it indeed seem more like air than anything solid. Then, grimacing, Seto had a small piece of his own.

Softly, when his cake had been completely demolished, Mokuba murmured, "Thanks, Seto."

The elder Kaiba didn't have to ask what his brother was thanking him for. "No thanks required, kiddo."

* * *

More determined than ever that Seto's birthday had to be the best one he ever had had, Mokuba could hardly concentrate when in school. 

"Mr. Kaiba, do I have to have the principal teach you today?"

"No, Mr. Fukomi. I'm sorry…what was the question?"

Some snickers came from around the class, but not for long. Mr. Fukomi was strict with everyone; a single voice out of place instantly snagged his attention and disrupted his teaching.

"In what year did the Meiji Era start?"

"Oh…" Mokuba blinked, looking at the board to see if it had any help to offer him, but naturally, it was as submissive and exemplary in obeying Fukomi's rules as the students were. Usually.

"Uh, 1794? Mind reeling, Mokuba had just thought of something his brother would _have_ to like. He couldn't wait to get out and find it.

Despite his teacher's frown, Mokuba's spirits would not sink. None of the usual disappointment ballooned within him at how the teacher had to go to a different student for the correct answer.

His gift for Seto would be perfect…

* * *

His brother had been mysteriously absent after school. Or rather, picking him up had taken longer than usual. Seto knew exactly what was going on, and, smirking, he pretended not to hear his brother creep past and peer in. Just the same, the executive pretended not to hear the crinkling of paper from down the hall. Still, one check would help to make certain Mokuba wasn't wrapping up some science experiment for him. 

To give warning or make the boy frantic? Kaiba paused with his hand ready to touch the door.

His brother being frantic was more enjoyable.

Swinging the door wide open, Kaiba crossed his arms and looked within as the view widened. Yet, even hearing what he had, the young man had not expected _this._

"Yugi?"

Yugi and Mokuba were both rushing to stand in front of something, but the mere fact that Yugi was over took away any attention Kaiba was willing to give to seeking out what his brother had decided on.

"I knew I should've locked the door."

That hurt. Mokuba had never indicated wanting to do so on previous occasions; the boy had simply good-naturedly put up with Kaiba's intrusions as part of the tradition.

"Happy birthday, Kaiba!" Yugi said brightly, unaware of the look of shock on Kaiba's face. "Mokuba told me about your birthday and let me come over to wish you one and maybe help celebrate!"

That punk had come over on his _birthday?_ Just thinking of Yugi on the day of his birthday ruined it. And Seto had already thought about Yugi and losing to him that morning. This was far worse.

This was taking a personal, filial event and turning it into something for people to view and gossip about. It was saying Kaiba's desires and preferences didn't count on the one day of the year that was actually his however much he scoffed about it.

Mokuba had never even asked Kaiba if he wanted Moto over.

And I don't, Seto snarled in his head. I don't want anything to do with remembering him today. Or ever if that could be possible!

Still…still, Kaiba had no reason to lash out against his brother. Mokuba simply couldn't understand. The boy was the only one Seto ever tried to open himself up to and let into his soul, and the boy couldn't understand.

"Thanks…Yugi," he replied somewhat curtly, somewhat brokenly. Turning to move his gaze from remaining on the short teen, Kaiba's eyes flickered once over to Mokuba's wide-eyed face and down to the amulet that he still wore about his neck. Its violet eyes reminded him all the more of Yugi, and whirling, Kaiba quickly left.

Already, his night was ruined.

* * *

A/N: Thanks so much for the reviews last chapter! They make me smile a lot. Sorry to make you more behind, Seq. But don't worry about it at all! And everyone else, thanks so much for those who continue to read and review! I'll be updating once a week from now on. Makes it easier for everyone, I think. 


	13. Twelve: A Simple Sleepover

Chapter Twelve: A Simple Sleepover

_I have learned why it is no one meets my gaze. It is because of that unspeakable night. I've heard the rumors, but I can't believe others would believe them. _

_Wheeler did this, of course. But how could that amateur have enough power to make it that I despise meeting the eyes of those around me whenever I am out in public?_

_I always thought nothing could hurt me so much, especially not lies. But lies hurt a lot when the truth is unknown.

* * *

_

Kaiba's birthday had been stiffly formal with the presence of Yugi. Or rather, it would have been such had Kaiba put in another appearance. The CEO, however, had returned to his room and refused to come out.

"I'm busy," he muttered when his brother came knocking.

"But, Seto, it's your birthday!"

"So what? You think the teachers cared that it happened to be my birthday when doling out the homework?"

Quieter, probably so the one spoken of wouldn't hear from wherever Mokuba had left him, he added, "But Yugi's here."

"Maybe he'll leave, then. Or else, you can entertain him. I already saw him in school, and that was enough."

Silence rested outside his door long enough that Kaiba was convinced his brother had somehow slipped away without a sound. So, he turned back to his software program he was designing.

"What about your birthday present?" The young vice president's voice was so mournful and quiet that Seto had to pause and wait for the words to sink in.

Closing his eyes, Kaiba opened them once more and looked emotionlessly at the screen. "If it's anything like that dragon pendant, I don't want it."

The steps came then, after a pause, and a sound that was suspiciously like a sniffle.

Kaiba received no gift from his brother that year.

* * *

The day following the birthday, the brothers were already back in their usual, known places. Sleep made old hurts fade somewhat, and the younger Kaiba was not known for holding grudges. 

Mokuba asked Kaiba a question regarding part of the setup he was planning for the sleepover, and the CEO answered thoroughly and even with some curiosity of what his brother was doing. After all, they were brothers and brothers fought on occasion.

But neither mentioned Seto's birthday again.

The Friday of the party finally arrived. Mokuba was uncontrollable at breakfast, too antsy to sit still long enough to eat his cereal and toast.

"Is everything ready for tonight?" His dancing eyes wouldn't rest on anything or anyone for long.

"Yes, Master Mokuba. All is ready in the basement as per your request."

Seto warily looked at the butler who seemed a bit too pleased with himself when mentioning how everything was prepared in the basement. The CEO had been overseeing everything to make certain no one would be able to sue them for having a heart attack, but it was likely he'd have to check once more to make certain nothing had changed with the final preparations.

"Better eat something, kiddo. You won't last through the day with only two bites of toast."

"My stomach's too quivery to eat! Why can't school already be over?"

Giving a mock bow, Kaiba said, "I apologize, little master. I have great power, but I'm afraid I can't cancel the school day for a wish that a slumber party comes sooner."

Making a face, Mokuba tried to eat a little more of the crispy bread instead of arguing more with his brother. Seto always seemed to win, anyway, and it was doubtful that even the inclusion with some of his vocabulary words he'd come out on top. He always slipped and used one incorrectly _some_where.

Mouth starting to curve, Kaiba flicked the newspaper back up before his face, sipping his cup of coffee.

The butler and the other servants of the mansions whisked out of sight, no doubt going to put the finishing touches on the surprise in the large basement.

Just twenty-four more hours until he could kick the gang out of his house and not ever have to contemplate them returning here again…twenty-four hours was too long to think about. At least he'd be working on a project during most of that time or living in a locked room as far from the dweebs as he could.

"You'll come and help me with the haunted house, won't you, Seto?"

Mokuba had nearly read his mind, and abruptly, guiltily, he put down his coffee and paper. His first word nearly a cough, he burst out, "What? You need my help? This was your idea, Mokuba."

"I know. But it'd be so much fun if you were there to help me."

His big eyes were focused entirely on Kaiba's face, and despite himself, the teenager felt his resolve wavering before him like a mirage in the desert. "Well…if you want me for my geniusness, who am I to decline?"

"Seto, 'geniusness' isn't a word."

"Who said?"

"Me."

"But I'm the genius here."

"Not a perfect one, evidently."

"…I'm hurt."

"No you're not; you're just annoyed that I knew that wasn't a word."

"It _is_ a word. I used it, didn't I? What word from my mouth wouldn't dare be in the dictionary?"

Sighing, Mokuba gave up. But when his brother was busy putting aside the paper and draining his coffee, Mokuba clambered over to the closet and pulled out the dictionary.

_Genius loci…genocide._

No "geniusness."

He had to be sure.

* * *

Joey stopped outside his first hour class, leaning around to look at Yugi. 

"What d' ya dink de little guy has planned for us?"

Nervously, Téa caught up to them and opened the door to the room with one hand, breathlessly shoving her hair out of her face with the one holding her books.

"What are you guys bringing?"

The guys gave her clueless looks, like such a dumb question had never been asked before.

"Eh? My bag, I guess."

Yugi shrugged. "What else do you need?"

Groaning, Téa went to her seat, muttering under her breath something about how guys would never get it. Yugi and Joey shrugged at each other before sitting down and beginning to debate what Mokuba would include in his "night of thrills."

"I have t' admit, it worried me a bit knowin' he was plannin' someding kind of like his brudda did before, but I trust de li'l guy."

Yugi nodded. "Uh-huh. I know what you mean. But I think it's going to be a great night. Too bad Bakura is going to have to be working on his project some of the time. Hey, how far are you on that, Joey?"

"Don't ask, and I won't scare ya. Trust me, ya don't wanna know."

Grimacing, the two shared looks of horror on remembering the pain the project had caused, and they looked sadly at Bakura who was alert and readying himself for the day's class. He cared a little too much about his grades if you asked Yugi, but it still didn't help that he was paired with Kaiba who wouldn't accept anything less than perfect. The two just wouldn't get along very well.

The teacher entered the room, shutting the door ominously behind him. On his face, making him appear more related to the phylum of insects than humans, was a pair of goggles. His eyes gleamed out at them all in a sense of delight that was far too much for the class of wearied students. Whatever experiment was planned in this physics class, no doubt, the teacher and the proverbial geek would enjoy it. And only those two.

Sighing, Yugi and Joey stopped chatting and faced the front of the class, catching the warning about needing to wear goggles. What was this, chemistry? Why the protection?

They soon learned. A test of projectiles and how one could measure what speed and direction it was going according to other factors.

Joey looked at Yugi and Yugi returned the same glance.

"…"

"…"

"I dought wid the projectiles, it'd be interestin', but…"

"Yeah. This is going to be a very boring class."

* * *

As it turned out, none of the workers needed any extra help with the haunted mansion setup in the basement. They all knew their roles and were prepared for the night to begin, so even if he had desire it, Kaiba wasn't required. For now, that pleased him fine. He wasn't about to inform his brother about it, though. 

As far as he was concerned, Mokuba wouldn't even realize he was never in the basement helping him out. Most helpers had to wear masks, even if Kaiba were sure his mere face would be enough to force Wheeler to wet his pants. So, Seto was going to try to stay in his room all night to avoid the temptation to throttle those who were going to be "guests" in the one place he thought was safe from such infiltrations by inferior interlopers.

But Kaiba would most certainly be in the basement that night. Everyone would. Everyone invited and some uninvited and unwanted.

* * *

A/N: Thanks again to all who reviewed (Garowyn, Tawnykit, Mystical Sand, morbid.gasoline, and Heather)! And thanks for correcting me on the game, morbid.gasoline. What a foolish error of mine...And Mystical Sand, I thought _I _was known for being able to ask the most questions. Congratulations; you have passed me by. bows I do like to see what you're thinking! Helps spur me on in various ways as well. You are right; the last two journal entries are out of order, but I did not mean for them to be that way. I'll correct it; thanks once more. Garowyn, Heather, and Tawnyit - don't worry if you don't find time to review at all. I'm grateful just that you're still reading. Thanks so much for your wonderful words! 


	14. Thirteen: The Night Begins

Chapter Thirteen: The Night Begins

_Everything in my recent nightmares seems to go back to a certain sleepover my brother insister on having, back to the night where the truth is hidden from me. Always, I relive that night time after time as I struggle to find the beginning of my demise. I know it exists on that night sometime. If only I could remember exactly what happened…

* * *

_

The butler looked over the haunted house one final time, knowing the preparations perfect from what sorts of experiments had been done before. Even Master Seto had surveyed everything and found it satisfactory. Now, it was time to do his little master proud and scare the visitors thoroughly.

Mokuba had raced upstairs, under explicit orders of his brother, and done his homework in another record time. Kaiba found it hard to determine if the prospect of the dragon amulet shop or the sleepover made him work faster.

"You have to eat something, Mokuba. Now."

"I can't take the time to eat now!"

"But you can take the time to argue with me about it."

"I'm working as I argue."

Indeed, it did appear as if Mokuba had the main part of his attention on the papers before him and was only giving his brother the smallest bit of his focus in order to give coherent answers.

"Then you aren't giving your work the best. Or me."

"I don't need to give my full attention to this; it's easy."

"Are you implying that arguing with me takes no skill at all?"

"No! I was talking about my homework being simple."

"That doesn't mean you won't mess up."

"Even with my full attention I could mess up."

"Not as much."

"But enough of a probability that I don't feel the need to make the chance any less."

"But I'm in charge and say that you must. And that'll only be after you eat."

Dejectedly, Mokuba stopped scrawling something and looked at Seto, trying one of his famous sad looks in order to guilt his brother. "But, _Set_o…Hey, whoever said you were in charge here?" he suddenly chirped, changing his face completely.

Smugly, Seto leaned back against the door frame, saying, "I did."

"Rulers don't put themselves in charge. Or the world would be filled with a bunch of idiotic, self-empowering, sadistic ones."

Kaiba stared at his brother, amused. "It already is."

Face falling once he realized he had lost for a foolish reason, Mokuba stood slowly. "Fine. I guess I'll just have to bolt down something." The boy dashed by his older brother down to the kitchen to find the first thing possible.

"Mokuba! You will not give yourself a stomachache or choke! Slow down!" Just as swiftly, Kaiba pursued his brother down to the kitchen to ensure no Heimlich maneuvers would be necessary.

The gang would be arriving in a few minutes scant of two hours. And then…he'd have to deal with their presence. First, he'd finish that annoying project he was _required_ to do with Bakura, and then he'd monitor the others to make certain nothing he cared for was being carted away or smashed to bits. Maybe he'd have to search Wheeler's backpack and supplies to see if some heavy hammer had been included.

"What in the name of the culinary goddess is that concoction?"

Around a myriad color, size and texture mouthful, Mokuba managed to get out, "Mah dinna."

Closing his eyes and suppressing a shudder, Kaiba replied, "Chew and swallow before speaking next time."

The devilish glint in Mokuba's eyes showed how he was debating disobeying his brother, but he waited long enough that only the residue on his tongue and teeth could disgust the highly hygienic and clean Kaiba.

"Why'd you ask if you didn't want me to answer immediately?" He stuffed his mouth with another bite of what looked like an egg salad sandwich, but there was definitely more color to it than that. From the sharp odor reaching his nostrils, Seto suspected some sort of sauce, and his ears picked out something…crunchy?

Inspecting the counter, Kaiba's stomach heaved. An open bag of candy-coated chocolate, peanut butter, a dish of hastily-made egg salad, a jar of jelly, a Tabasco sauce bottle, and pickles littered the area with their remains.

"And how is this a really quick dinner? Look at all of what you had to put on it."

Giving a big swallow, Mokuba took a moment to catch his breath. "I needed to get my food groups."

"Which are what? Chocolate, salt, cholesterol, oil, and manufactured preserves?"

"No! The chocolate is dairy, the peanut butter protein, the egg salad is protein, too, and fats, the bread carbohydrates, the pickles vegetables, and the jelly fruit."

"And the Tabasco sauce?" he asked, wondering just where and when his brother had started this downhill descent into madness.

"So I cahn ea' it," he said around another mouthful. Seeing his brother turning slightly green, Mokuba chewed rapidly and took a gulp of water. "So I can eat it. It masks the rest of the flavor."

Shaking his head, Kaiba went to the refrigerator to find something _truly _edible. After Wheeler arrived, after all, the food would be gone. As he was managing something much healthier and edible than Mokuba's mixture, the doorbell echoed throughout the place. Someone was early.

Eyes frozen wide, the boy leaped to his feet. "I didn't get my work finished!"

"You have more time to do it, you know. You don't have to complete it the first day you're out of school on the weekend." Not knowing why he was encouraging procrastination, Seto silenced himself abruptly with a bite of his carrot.

The butler came from another room, bowing before saying, "Master Seto, Master Mokuba, the guests have arrived for your sleepover."

* * *

The servants indeed had prepared everything. A large room was ready to hold the hyper souls if they ever planned on sleeping at the mansion, and plenty of snacks were set out in the room as well. Kaiba had allowed all that food, but anything more was under guard to ensure Wheeler didn't get carried away. 

Immediately upon seeing the room, Wheeler did the expected and turned to Tristan with an excited, greedy look on his face.

Together, they shouted, "FEEDING FRENZY!"

Then, they raced over to the table to see how much they could cram down their throats in the shortest amount of time possible without choking or hurling on the floor. The winner was, naturally, the greater man. If you asked Kaiba, the winner was by far the stupidest man ever born on the earth. Stomachs signaled they were full for a good reason, and why anyone would want to do something guaranteed to make them ill—especially when at another person's house they were invited to be at for a party—meant they were extremely dull-witted in the head. And Joey Wheeler never proved Kaiba wrong in the slightest.

Mokuba was chuckling, however, and helping throw the bags in a corner as he welcomed the other guests. He showed Bakura over to his brother right away, recognizing the foreign boy's nervousness for what it was.

"Don't worry; we won't go downstairs until you're finished working on that project with my brother."

"Oh…I'm very grateful."

All the gang turned their heads to the younger adolescent who was smirking smugly with his hands in his pockets.

"Mokuba, what _is_ down there?" Téa unconsciously shivered and took one step closer to Yugi. "I mean, you never explained what it was yet."

"Yeah, dell ush!" Through his mouthful of food, doing a worse job of keeping it all inside than Mokuba had been minutes before, Tristan prodded Mokuba for answers.

"Nope, I'm not tellin'. It's a surprise, guys! But I'm sure you'll love it! Now, just stay put for a minute…I need to bring Bakura to my brother."

"No need," came a quiet voice from the other side of the door. "Do you think I'd actually let you leave these people to come find me, allowing our home the chance to be completely demolished in your absence?"

"Come on, Seto. They're not that bad."

"Hmph." Kaiba turned to Bakura, who had been trying not to look like he was listening or even aware of the CEO's presence. "Let's go to my office and get this thing completed."

"Uh…all right. I've got my things." Hefting his bag onto his shoulder, Bakura left, feeling more like he was walking a plank than finally being able to do as he desired and finishing the project the proper way.

"Hope to see you again!" Tristan called with a laugh before he realized that his empty mouth meant Joey was beating him and that he needed to dive back into the snacks.

Happily, Mokuba surveyed his guests and began to plan what they'd do first. He took a glance down at the dragon sitting arrogantly on his chest, and figured that the story of the cursed pendant would make a great start to the evening's entertainment. But until they could go to the basement, they'd have to settle for the boring board games and card games that Yugi was sure to win and that Joey was certain to have near-win attempts through luck alone.

* * *

And in a far distant room, Bakura settled uneasily across from Kaiba and the two began the laborious process of holding a conversation and completing a school project together. 


	15. Fourteen: A Curse Retold

Chapter Fourteen: A Curse Retold

_I had a different dream this time. Not the one with the missing puzzle piece, but one where I was back in the dark of my mansion's basement, back to the night it all happened. And just when I was going to learn the truth of the matter, just when I heard someone scream, I lost it all and was back with the zombies of Duel Monsters surrounding me as I sought uselessly for that damned puzzle piece. I _hate_ puzzles. I'm not Yugi Moto. I'd rather do something else with my time. Why does it upset me so much?

* * *

_

The hour that Ryo Bakura faced alone in Kaiba's office was one built of nightmares.

And, truthfully, the same hour for Kaiba could only be categorized as "pointless headaches" at the best.

Why they both were determined and lasted the entire hour meant that some stubborn and decisive streak lay hidden somewhere in Bakura. Kaiba had his on the very surface for all to see, but Bakura's was buried deep so that it took quite a bit to bare it to the world.

But once something deemed necessary entered his mind, not even the caustic CEO could intimidate him.

"I did all of this for the project already. Care to look over it?" Kaiba asked so dryly that Bakura's ears were in danger of withering away in the drought.

"Yes, thank you." A pale hand reached out to snap it out the businessman's grasp before fixing the collection before him and scanning the pages.

Taken aback, Seto paused and waited before realizing that Bakura was actually reading it over word by word. Not skimming. Never would the sarcastic teen have expected Bakura to grow a backbone.

"Satisfied?" he asked as Bakura finally reached the end of the packet.

"Yes, I suppose it will do."

_Suppose_? That didn't please Seto in the slightest, and he glowered over at his partner. "Any ways to fix it up?"

Across the way, Bakura seemed to be enjoying the dangerous new game. His voice had turned slightly raspier and an excited glint reflected in his amused dark eyes. "None that _you_ would deem worthwhile."

"Are you throwing my _knowledge_ into disdain?" The words flickered across the table at a quick speed, sizzling in intensity like an expensive steak on a preheated grill.

Lips curling into a sneer where Kaiba seemed to be the most entertaining thing at this moment in all time, Bakura leaned back in his chair and reveled in the feeling of power and control. He knew his partner was growing angrier as the time went by. As the silence continued, it changed to hold hidden assassins ready to cut out the tongue of the next daring to speak.

"You could say that," he finally drawled, looking more at the desk before him and letting a finger copy a design of the wood. So at ease, so comfortable, Kaiba could have throttled Bakura just for that.

"Then please do enlighten me as to where I could suffer through improvement."

Grin widening like a predator about to pounce, Bakura uncrossed his legs lazily and grabbed the packet of papers.

"I don't know if you can solve the main problem. The entire tone seems to be such a haughty manner I think the teacher will dislike reading it." Not bothering to look up to see what his words were doing, Bakura studied one hand's nails. Quietly, he continued, "And I think the knowledge isn't as much from research as from a pompous attitude demanding that people listen to him and the lies he spews."

"That's it," Kaiba said, knuckles white from where they grasped the chair. He stood just as Bakura's laughter echoed through the room. In a second later, as the near-albino's shirt was tightly gripped in a fist, the boy's eyes had their wild, nervous look back.

"Wh-what? What's going on? Kaiba!"

Narrowing his eyes but leaving his grip, Kaiba searched Bakura's face, finding the utter confusion and fear to be so authentic it made no sense. In a rage, he released the young man and stalked back behind his desk.

"You can finish the project yourself," he said lowly, back to his classmate, his tightly clenched hands the only part of apprehension visible on the CEO.

"But…what happened?" Bakura was looking around the room like he hadn't been sitting in it the past fifteen minutes.

"You got what you wanted!" Calming himself and turning cold and bitter to keep the other emotions free from his voice, Kaiba cast only an eye back at Bakura. "So don't rub it in my face. Do what you want with the project, but if we get anything less than perfect, I know whose fault it'll be."

And so, for the next forty-five minutes, Bakura sat confused in the office. He struggled to finish the little bit of the assignment to the satisfaction of his partner who refused to do it himself or explain what he meant when he mentioned how it ought to live up to Bakura's expectations now that Bakura himself had written it.

Deep in the back of his mind, he heard a faint, hoarse laughter.

_H-ha ha ha ha!

* * *

_

"Awright…so Yuge wins again. I'm gettin' sick a'dis."

Joey certainly wasn't the only one who was getting tired of the young teen winning every game set before him. The others might have put up a good fight, but Yugi was always the final victor. And…it was sickening.

Téa covered a yawn as Yugi cheered like a little kid, asking if anyone wanted to play again. No one answered.

"Okay, how about checkers?"

"No offense, Yuge," Joey said, head slumped toward his knees, "but I'm gettin' tired of all dis. I want t' see de surprise in de basement!"

Smiling, Mokuba turned toward him. "I bet you'll like it. But we can't go without Bakura!"

The others made a small protest as they waited for the other friend to appear at this opportune time. But the doorway remained empty. Eerily empty. Had not the mansion been so well-kept, Joey would have felt like he was in a horror film. Everything had gone quiet and still, rogue creaks and groans reminding him of a torture chamber he had once seen in a movie.

Mostly to clear his mind of such haunting thoughts, Wheeler turned to the others, lying on his stomach. "So, whaddywe do now?"

Glancing down at the glinting amulet lying on his chest, the vice-president smirked, a worthy facial expression to be considered a Kaiba.

"I've got something here that might interest you. Look at this!" He removed the dragon charm, cord and all, handing it out to his curious audience. Yugi was highly fascinated, even though he already knew about it. Joey was also intrigued, thinking it would make some good collateral. Téa wrinkled her nose and didn't touch it, while Tristan just wondered what was so special about it.

But all of them got hypnotized staring at its eyes.

"I got it at that shop you told me about, Yugi. And the man there told me quite a story about it…I'll be sharing it with you all later. Soon, I hope." Mokuba glanced at the doorway, wondering how his brother could have _that_ much of a project left to do.

Seeing all his friends fingering up the dragon necklace made the boy slightly apprehensive, but he ignored it as well as he could. What would they actually do to it? It wouldn't make sense for them to want to do anything to damage it or steal it. No, not even Joey Wheeler would.

They were all friends, after all.

* * *

Bakura finally found his way back to the party room, plainly relieved that his ordeal was finally over. He would have been content to lie down and pass out right then, but Mokuba and the others were so excited to see him, jumping up and determined to get to something important in the basement that he couldn't. And he wouldn't wipe off the expressions on their faces just for his own selfish whims. 

Kaiba was watching from another place down the hall, checking to see how the guests were doing. No one saw him as they walked, laughing and chatting, down the stairs behind his younger brother. The servants who were important to the haunted house setup downstairs were already missing and had been for some time.

"I hope you do me proud, kiddo," Kaiba said before turning to go back to his room to start some experimentation on a type of computer that would follow eye movements. If he could do that with a computer, the genius was certain he could change it over to work in his game of Duel Monsters, as well. Having a completely silent game where one had only to look at trigger words and targets to attack and activate cards would change the game once more.

* * *

The herd of monkeys descended the stairs, at first clattering and full of jaunty attitudes. As they continued down into the darkness, however, people slowly grew quieter and less inclined to break out with a joke. Joey, feeling a trail of cobweb on his face (placed there for the purpose of the mood, not because some worker had been slacking on the job; no one would dare that in Kaiba's house), shouted and flailed at its sticky closeness. 

"Get it off me! Get it off me!"

He plunged right into Téa, who was startled, but she dryly pulled the webs from his face and righted him. "Frightened of a little spider web, Joey? You're worse than I am!"

"I wasn't scared uva li'l web!" he said disdainfully, straightening and dusting himself off. "I was frightened dat some ghost had crossed me!"

Tristan shook his head. "There aren't any ghosts here, man. Except maybe Bakura, considering how white he is."

Smiling weakly, Bakura didn't respond to the tease, too preoccupied with listening hard for the Spirit of the Millennium Ring he was certain was going to show soon.

"Ghosts?" Mokuba asked slowly, turning around with a grin. "You may find that this mansion does have its ghosts…we'll see if we continue into the basement. I have that tale of the dragon necklace to tell you and something to show you as well."

Joey looked apt to clamber back on up the stairs now that he heard ghosts were a real possibility, but with Tristan and Téa on the other side of him blocking his way, he couldn't push past without them making some comment. So he gulped and followed Yugi down to the ominous depths.

Mokuba finally found a light that flickered two or three times before changing to a brighter color and staying lit. The little master of the Kaiba mansion smiled at how well the servants had prepared the place for their visit.

The light cascaded down to the ground covered with what appeared to be age-old dust and grime, webs and pieces of webs flitting in some cool, underground breeze. The dank, musty scent rose to their nostrils to remind them of catacombs, and a faint trace of fresh earth made them think of newly-dug graves. Shadows were waving all over because the one bulb Mokuba had lit was still swinging like a pendulum or axe ready to slice into them unawares. A scurry from somewhere unseen had Joey whiter than Bakura and whimpering under his breath. Mokuba smiled. All was perfect.

"This kind of reminds me of that place on Pegasus's island where you dueled Bones, Joey," Tristan said, scratching his head as he looked around.

Such words were not the ones to tell the near-panicked teen.

"Gah!" He jumped away from where a servant had just appeared from an inky black doorway, silent on his feet like a well-oiled hinge.

The servant smothered a self-satisfied smile as he bowed to Mokuba. "All awaits in the room, Master Mokuba."

"Thanks!"

The boy was far too cheery to make the gang feel any more at ease. Joey was literally clutching Tristan, and Bakura was completely preoccupied and nervous. Téa didn't appear as calm as she would have liked, but Yugi was grinning and bouncing after Mokuba as they headed off into the tarry blackness.

It was liked walking at the depths of the ocean where not a thread of sunlight ever reached with its trembling warm fingers. All was utterly encased in an unbreakable shell of utter raven shadows. Before light existed…the gang was certain this obscurity covered everything, and uneasy thoughts danced through their minds about whether this would be what they saw when they closed their eyes for the final time.

How Mokuba managed to find his way without a single trip or stumble made the others guess that he had been practicing. But he was a good leader and managed to herd the others into a large—also black—room without anyone getting lost or muttering more than two curses from stubbed feet, most of which were from treading and trampling into one another.

"We're here," he said softly, taking a moment before plucking a match from his pocket and lighting a disfigured candle from the other. "Oops…looks like it was too warm from being next to my leg," he said upon lighting the blue waxen lump.

"So, what's de big deal? Why're ya bringin' us down here, Mokuba?" Joey had, by then, released Tristan, but the tenseness in his arms indicated how quickly he'd return to the position if there were a need.

"I wanted to tell you a story…"

Yugi sat down cross-legged on the ground, and the others gradually followed his lead. The candle, slowly dripping wax like a crying statue, became what would have been the fire had they truly been camping. The darkness around them was silent, though, no singing crickets or buzzing of the other insects that hid in the tall grasses. All attention was riveted upon Mokuba, the diamond so honored and mesmerized by onlookers.

"This amulet is not just a simple dragon design with some special crystal for its eyes." The eyes spoken of flashed in orange annoyance as if disgusted with the very thought that its eyes were mere crystal. "It has a dark tale behind it. And I wanted to share that story with you tonight…"

The listeners slowly, unconsciously leaned slightly forward as the words caressed them and sunk through their ears into their souls. Soft, like cloud ice cream, the words drifted and entered into their beings so as to be trusted, believed, deemed important.

Telling the tale, Mokuba was surprised at all that was happening, almost like the words were being drawn out of him by the simple charm in his hand, sitting so warmly and innocently. Once, he thought it had writhed or wriggled, but upon glancing down at it, the dragon was still.

Softly, with careful enunciations and varied rhythms, the tale of Azerjan, his daughter Desarqiz, and the Stone of Tallyba left its sanctuary of the boy's memory and became present, potent in the air about them.


	16. Fifteen: Haunted Mansion

Chapter Fifteen: Haunted Mansion

_Police are of no help to me. They know no more than I myself know—no more than the reports of the people filed of what happened at the event. Still, I can't help but think someone knows more, even though I have had lie detector tests done on everyone I could. That revealed no more answers. _

_Time is running out. But nothing more comes forth. Sitting here and waiting is killing me. The fact that I am of absolutely no use at all makes me so frustrated I would charge up to strangers on the street and demand they tell me what they know._

_No one knows anything. That's the problem. No one but whoever had a hand in this.

* * *

_

Kaiba had been planning on staying in his room all night and getting work done, but after only a brief work on his project, he stood and stretched.

"I should check on Mokuba," he murmured.

As much as the prospect of seeing the little collection of best friends made Kaiba excited to visit a lair of scorpions and walk barefoot among them, a certain thrill and anticipation shuddered through his bones thinking of his brother's planned night.

That haunted house…he had gone through it and witnessed its expertise. Now, he wanted to be present to hear the monkey scream like a two-year-old. Maybe he'd even bring a camera or tape to blackmail Wheeler with later. No, not blackmail. Wheeler had nothing he wanted anyway. He'd simply do it for tortuous fun.

Chuckling lowly in anticipation, Seto Kaiba dug through his closet to put on a special pair of glasses—no doubt Mokuba would have been delighted to see them on him—that had a camera hidden within them. Being a billionaire was truly helpful at times, even for little petty schemes like this.

"It's about time others get to see how amateurish Wheeler really is. And I certainly wouldn't mind a bit if I caught Yugi doing something stupid or embarrassing, either. With Téa here, that shouldn't be too hard."

Taking the stairs in a fast clip, the servants around the mansion didn't know what to make of it. But they did smile, glad to see their master in such high spirits.

If only they knew the reason the spirits were so high.

If only they knew that this would be the last time his spirit existed at all.

* * *

"And so," finished Mokuba, "the curse passed on from that day all the time following the bearer of the amulet." 

He now had the chance to be where the old store keeper had been, looking at the faces staring at him in rapt attention. All were completely taken in by the story and seeing distant visions of murder on a sandy terrain and a dark tent.

Then, the candle, little more than a stub anyway, blacked out and everyone was lost to Mokuba's vision. A high-pitched, distant giggle sounded in the chambers, and Joey started, discernible by his tell-tale shriek.

"Just like dat girl! Dat's wrong, Mokuba! A kid killin' her fader? And when so young? Dat's evil!" He gave a violent twitch and shudder, looking around him in the blackness as if the girl were waiting for him now.

A light came from Mokuba; he had pulled out a flashlight from his pocket and set it to pierce the ceiling with its single, yellow beam. Now the ring of people had a spooky glow to their faces that made them all appear unhealthy.

Tristan looked closely at the amulet that Mokuba had. "And you say it's all traveled down through the years on that thing? Others who had it did the same thing?"

The clerk hadn't given any other exact examples, but Mokuba was going to use the night and setting to his advantage. "Yes. Every single person who had this necklace ended up doing something he regretted greatly to another person. Another person he or she cared most about."

Covering her mouth with a tiny gasp, Téa stared at the boy. "So…you're going to…Kaiba?"

Yugi looked quickly at Mokuba, reaching the same conclusion that Téa had. Why would Mokuba own something that was just going to end up harming his brother?

"You believe I'd ever do that, even with a cursed item?" Mokuba scoffed. "Yeah, right. Seto's got nothing to fear from me! Besides, it's just a story." He was a little put-out with how they assumed his brother was in danger. He had wanted the story to work, but not _that_ well.

From deep within, from the Puzzle always around his neck, Yugi heard a voice.

_Yugi…I sense a great evil coming from that necklace. It's still potent, whatever Mokuba claims. I'm unsure of whether Mokuba would be able to face its wrath and power when it unleashes._

Such dire words worried Yugi. "Um, Mokuba, are you certain you feel safe wearing that? Maybe you should give it back to the place you got it. I had no idea they sold things like that! My grandpa just said they had ancient artifacts."

"And your Puzzle isn't one like that? I've heard what it said on the box: _The one who solves me shall gain the powers and knowledge of darkness_. Do you think your grandpa was happy with you doing that? And nothing so terrible has happened since you solved that! Why is this any different?"

The others looked from Yugi to Mokuba, the real-life terrors of the story dwindling as harsh reality set upon them once more. Well, all but one. Bakura could never truly escape his real-life terrors. From deep within, he heard the Spirit's laughter once more.

_There's no need for the young one to know what I said,_ the Spirit of the Puzzle informed Yugi, and mentally, the teen nodded to the ancient pharaoh.

"You're right; maybe that was just a story. But stories start for a reason, and maybe there's some truth to this one." Saying that a spirit could sense an evil presence seemed too far-fetched to even mention aloud. After all, this was Kaiba's younger brother, even if he seemed more open to tales of the unnatural.

His night was completely going downhill. Instead of just getting chills and the spooky feeling, his friends were trying to get him to abandon his birthday present. It wasn't _that_ dangerous. What had it done so far?

Nothing! Mokuba hadn't felt any ill will toward his brother in the slightest.

Thinking the only way to get them all off his case was to somewhat agree, the boy slipped the pendant off his neck and placed it in a pocket. "There, I'll take it off now. Let's go see the real reason I brought you down here now!"

Joey's stomach rumbled just at that time, taking away from the gravity and creepiness of the situation. As everyone looked at him, some disdainfully and others with amusement, he tried to look innocent.

"What? You dink a few snacks are gonna make up for a whole dinna for me? I can't help it when I'm hungry!"

"You can eat later," Mokuba promised. "Right now, come check out the haunted mansion!"

He jumped to his feet, grabbing the flashlight and turning it to pierce the darkness behind him at one of the doors. Whatever mystery was behind it had the natural pull of a reel as a fisher dragged in a hooked catch, no matter how the fish struggled for freedom. Curiosity needed to be assuaged.

The small group entered the blackness behind one small adolescent and his single, dim flashlight.

The Spirit of the Ring continued to snigger quietly in his host's ears.

* * *

The staircase was still completely cut off from any light, and traveling through the ebony ribbons were like wading through snow that tried to drown any trespassers. When a cobweb, the same that had so startled Joey, brushed across Kaiba's face, he smirked. 

"Nice going, little brother."

Mokuba had gone all out with this haunted mansion deal, as Kaiba already well knew. A tape was even playing of small creaks and protests of feet against wood or a door slowly being shifted. The CEO, after all, had not allowed Mokuba to replace all the stairs with old rickety wood just for this purpose, not even to frighten Wheeler.

His brother's voice echoed up the steps, the disembodied sound reminding Kaiba so much of horror tales he couldn't resist chuckling again. This nearly reminded him of that shop where they had found the dragon pendant.

While Kaiba had been investigating the basement before, worried things might have been taken too far, all the music and darkened places hadn't been prepared and set up as they were now. Experiencing the completed work, the tall teenager could proudly see how similar he and his brother were.

Someone down below shrieked, and not a doubt whispered in Kaiba's mind that it was anyone other than Wheeler.

"I better start that tape."

Glasses already on, Seto simply had to touch a finger to one of the rims to turn on the recording. Then, Kaiba continued down the steps like he was going down into an ancient tomb such as rulers were buried in.

Whispered tones gone from his voice, Mokuba was now just talking.

"Tell another spooky story, Mokuba," Kaiba said softly, amused. "I want to see Wheeler get up and run."

Or maybe, Kaiba would simple participate in the night after all. Mokuba had never asked again, and the CEO had to assume it was because the kid had thought Kaiba wouldn't want to. That would have been true. But now, Kaiba was completely anxious to catch something that would completely humiliate Wheeler and his friends so that maybe they'd leave him alone once and for all.

The maze-like depths of the basement held all sorts of surprises and spooks like any traditional haunted house.

One more person to creep out the visitors wouldn't do any harm.

…or so he believed.


	17. Sixteen: A Few Surprises

Chapter Sixteen: A Few Surprises

_I decided against my former judgment that visiting Dr. Tseusaki isn't such a bad idea after all, for my dreams are visited by such haunting arrays of images and faces I cannot recall that I must do something or never rest again. _

_The police are warning me that time is running out. They won't be able to keep up their work with any hope of succeeding. But I'll never let them stop. I have the funds to keep them going. Besides, I won't believe in their conclusions._

_Writing it would be making it real.

* * *

_

Walking into the darkness, Mokuba grinned in anticipation of what was coming.

"Welcome to the Haunted Kaiba Mansion."

"A thrill house? One of those fake haunted houses with all the ghosts that leap out at people?" Téa asked.

Looking disdainfully at her, Mokuba sniffed. "I think we can handle things a little better than _that_."

Yugi looked at the others, and they all shared the same thoughts. The Kaibas _had _managed to handle things better than that when Death-T had happened. (1)A real-life murderer, the Chop-Man, had been released in the amusement park for one of them to battle or be killed by. Joey shuddered; that particular fight had been his.

"I cud you ub!"

Joey squealed and jumped. Behind him, snickering, was Tristan. Obviously, the shark-fin had had the same thoughts as Joey and had decided to scare him with the line Choppy had always been saying during that battle.

"TRISTAN!"

Mokuba frowned over at them, shining the light on both of them. "Choppy? He's dead. And I would _never_ go back to him for a thrill in my haunted house. Don't worry, guys. I didn't get that involved in it. It's perfectly safe!"

They all muttered as they continued, one Spirit sniggering in the hollows of one's mind and making him completely nervous, one other Spirit ominously silent and leaving his friend worried of what was happening.

Perfectly safe, Mokuba had claimed. Indeed, it had been when he started it. But now, it was not remotely safe at all.

* * *

"This is where you start, you guys!" Mokuba said cheerily. 

The others looked around, but with the focus of the flashlight on the ground, nothing was easily discernible.

Shadows seemed to blend into more shadows, and none of them appeared safe at all. Instead, teeth were looming out to snap and grasp them, dragging them screaming away to where everything was so silent and dark no one would ever find them again or even remember them. A distant dripping of water reminded the listeners of being in a cave, and the same stifling feeling accompanied them, making them feel trapped.

"Don't look so worried; I'll be going along, too!"

Slightly reassured, Yugi took a deep breath. He was mainly worried about Joey. He _hated_ these kinds of things. Fortunately, the blond was still conscious; usually, he passed out about now.

"At least we don't have to worry about that brat, Johji." (2)

"Don't look at me! It wasn't my fault I had to baby-sit my sister's kid!

"But you didn't have to give him to me all the time! That kid was such a perv!"

Sticking his hands in his pockets, Tristan looked up at the ceiling. "Uh, speaking of which, Téa, he keeps asking me when you're going to come over."

Her hands formed into claws. Shrieking, she screamed, "_I'M NOT GOING TO TAKE A BATH WITH THAT PERV_!"

Yugi's eyes were as wide as Bakura's Millennium Ring. He hadn't known anyone could shout that loudly.

Mokuba blinked. He wasn't certain what they were all alluding to, but he wanted to get their minds off Death-T at all costs. Those times were over, and all apologies had long been made and accepted. He was absolutely certain of it.

"Anyway, there are four doorways here. You can pick which one you want. You might find they overlap or not…and there are surprises around every bend. Oh, and to keep it interesting, you're looking for Duel Monster cards. You need five to get out."

"Huh?" all five said together.

A clang rang out like a dungeon door slamming shut…which was what it was when they went to see. The way they had come was locked to them with a pseudo-jail door blocking them. A weird combination was on the door with five slots for five cards, the slots designed as an outlined of a body including a head, hands, and feet.

"Dis reminds me a'Duelist Kingdom," Joey muttered.

_Or a Shadow Game,_ the Spirit of the Puzzle murmured.

"Five _different_ Duel Monsters cards. You can work together, but then you'll have to find as many five sets of cards as for the people trying to leave." Mokuba smiled. He thought he had done a great job setting this up. All was a game, but a completely harmless one. He'd designed it, after all. Unlike those other games that had happened before, no one would be hurt.

He was sure of it.

* * *

Kaiba was certainly proud of his brother. He was on the same side of the dungeon door as the others, but as it was so dark, no one had even noticed him come in. Wearing his dark coat instead of his white studded one, he blended in well when no lights were on. 

Yugi ought to love this challenge, he thought. Heck, I'd love this challenge. Maybe I'll join in the game and see what happens…

"Are you all ready? Any questions?" his brother asked, voice piping up to dispel the gloom and depression that hung on them from the darkness. His brother was able to lighten anything.

"Dere a time limit?"

"Do we have to play?" Téa asked at the same time.

Yugi turned to her. "I'm game! You can be my partner and then you won't have to do anything yourself."

"I wann be yar partner, Yuge!"

"Why don't we _all_ work together?" Tristan asked glancing around for approval. "Bakura, you leaving already?"

Their friend turned back with an indescribable expression on his face. "I think I'll work alone…" He vanished into the gloom with an evil smirk, thinking of how this reminded him of the pyramids he used to raid. Such fun was involved, and he, Thief-King Bakura, was going to win this little competition!

"He's starting?" Yugi gasped. "We gotta go!"

From behind them, Mokuba quickly called, "No time limit…well, except be done by morning!" He watched their forms fade into the darkness, amused that their competitive spirit sent them off without any reckoning for light at all. Certain hints existed along the way, however.

"Nice job, Mokuba."

The boy whirled, amazed at how stealthily Seto had crept up to him. Well, no. Seto never _crept_. Just wasn't part of his normal bodily movements.

"You're going to help?" he asked brightly. Earlier that morning, Kaiba hadn't said one way or the other about which course he was taking. They had been sidetracked by the word—or anti-word—"geniusness."

"I was. But now I'm thinking about trying this place out. Looks…_fun_."

Mokuba, looking at his brother's glasses that Seto was now removing, was surprised. Years had passed since the last time Seto Kaiba admitted to having fun. And now, Mokuba would give anything, anything at all, even the pendant and his locket, to keep the look on his brother's face.

"What are those glasses for? I knew it! You really do need them; you were lying before."

Kaiba slowly folded them and placed them in a hidden inside pocket of his coat. A small smile growing on his face, his riveted eyes never left their place of gazing at Mokuba. "They're not for my eyesight; they're a type of secret camera."

"Really? Can I see?" Mokuba eagerly reached for the glasses already hidden away in his brother's pocket.

"Sure…but only because they've been fireproofed, waterproofed, idiot-proofed, smashing-proofed, and curiosity-proofed. You should be able to handle them without harm." Getting them back out, Kaiba handed them over to his brother with a grin as Mokuba groaned. "Are you going into the maze you helped create?"

"I suppose. But I need to give them a head start so some of them might have cards by the time I check on them. I was going to play, but that isn't fair considering I made it all," Mokuba said, smiling up at his brother wearing the glasses.

"Make sure your eyesight doesn't get any worse; those look ridiculous on you."

"They looked good on you. Are you _sure _you don't secretly wear them? Or contacts?"

"I'm sure. My eyes are too good for that."

Shrugging, Mokuba was looking around the area, glasses still perched on the edge of his nose. "Cool! When I look at the light, they change to sunglasses."

"They're called transitional lenses, Mokuba."

"So, these are some pretty nifty shades we have here!" He paused, still looking around, this time focusing on the darkness and adding, as the "shades" obviously didn't do the opposite and light up the blackness, "What we need are some night goggles now…"

"We could probably find some."

"Nah, too much like cheating."

This time, Kaiba didn't retort at all; he was simply too proud that his brother wouldn't even think of cheating.

He's better than I was years ago, he thought fondly. Then he turned with his brother and entered the maze.

* * *

(1): Manga reference. Part of Kaiba's death set-up had a murderer known as the Chop Man. He cut people into such little pieces that no one could put them together again. Joey was forced to face him in a battle during Death-T, and it ended in a fiery explosion for Choppy. 

(2): Another manga reference. Tristan joined the gang in Death-T, but he was also watching his sister's baby, Johji. The kid ended up hitting on Tea, who was usually the one left holding him by Takahashi's kindness, and once, he helped the group in return that he would be allowed to take a bath with Tea. Tristan hadn't asked Tea before agreeing...


	18. Seventeen: Lost in a Maze

Chapter Seventeen: Lost in the Maze

_The doctor wants me to actually face my dreams and keep a record of them. And he is determined to draw out whatever is in the back of my mind forgotten, as well. All he's going to find is Gozaburo. And that is one ghost I put to rest completely years ago. _

_Still, this is blocking my future, and so, I must open the past.

* * *

_

His own mansion had turned into a place he couldn't even recognize. Even the walk-through he had done earlier in the day had not prepared him for how changed it seemed at night; no lights shined except a few black bulbs or flickering old ones to throw the senses into confusion.

"You did your homework," Seto said with a grin, looking at a section of hallway flashing to their right. It was like one of those strobe lights used at dances, only here it was put to much better use, Kaiba deemed, for people would get confused and feel they were moving in slow motion.

"You always made me," the boy replied, still wearing those glasses in fascination, wondering if he was taping all this as he walked. The Kaiba Haunted Mansion would forever be memorialized in film!

Mokuba glanced around the area, seeing the different doors, some of which had existed there before and some of which he had set up with cardboard and any other workable material that would pass for walls.

"I think I will check on how they're all doing. You don't think it's too hard, do you? I wouldn't want them to find it too hard and therefore make it no fun for them."

Unaware of all that was included in the place, knowing only the decorations and not even the role of the servants, Kaiba was uncertain of everything. "I doubt it. What kind of challenge doesn't Yugi like to take? And his dumb friends have enough luck that they'll finish right behind him, I'm sure. It's disgusting."

Pondering his brother's words, Mokuba looked around the place, wondering which routes the gang had taken and how they all were faring. Unlike Seto, he doubted that this place would be as easy as other games they had participated in.

* * *

Cackling lowly, the thief plunged into the darkness, throwing back his unbound hair and cursing the body that would make him stand out in the darkness. 

"White hair, pale skin. No scars. This is sickening. A good thief should always be able to blend in and have some scars to show his experience." Even back in Egypt when the Spirit of the Millennium Ring had existed without the need for a mortal host, his white hair had not been a problem. There, he had clothing able to cover it easily. But this mortal had seemed to forget that his hair might potentially be a problem if one were attempting stealth in the utter darkness.

"What a fool. But I'll win regardless and have a little fun as well."

Bakura padded on through the dark corridors, the damp smell contrasting with his warmed flesh excited by what was going on this night. He couldn't wait to find something that was supposed to scare them. Maybe it'd have something useful on it, like a real knife. One shouldn't go wandering and hunting for treasure without some sort of protection. And if his host hadn't come prepared, he, the Thief-King Bakura, would prepare for him.

Eyes mostly adjusted to the darkness, he still ran smack into a door he hadn't seen. Cursing softly, he backed away softly, feeling out with his right hand to find where the knob was to yank it open.

"That _hurt_," he snarled, nose still throbbing. "And no one makes fun of me like that!"

Flinging wide the door, which cracked and tore, being cardboard, he strode through with another muttered curse, kicking the door for one last proof of his emotions.

"They won't catch me doing something like that again, idiot boy."

The door immediately behind him, he stopped and looked around, head turning and nostrils flaring for any rogue scent. "Heh…I'm giving this too much of my expertise; this isn't some pyramid or desert where I have to be alert constantly. As if the Kaiba brat would think to change the terrain or something!"

About to laugh, a thick hand gripped around his arm and squeezed, startling the Spirit into shrieking. He ripped his arm free and tore down the hall without thinking or steering with any of his thieving skills; all his body was aware of was escaping the imminent threat behind him.

No sound of steps echoed behind him, but still, the adrenaline urged him onward.

His heart was finally slowing in its frantic pounding that was like one of those girls in scary movies trying to escape the pursuer by knocking on a door that never opens. Bakura slumped his shoulders and tried to gain bearing of his completely black surroundings. Not a hint of light existed.

"How _big _could this basement possibly be?" he muttered darkly. "And how many more surprises are lurking around the corners for my unsuspecting host's body to fall victim to? Untrained fool!" Bakura had no doubt that had he been in his ancient form, he would _not_ have charged down the hall in surprise. He had long since learned to fight off such basic instincts.

* * *

Off a distance, others wondered similar questions. 

"How big could Kaiba's basement be? Dis is insane!"

The group cast looks around at everything that had been set up. Even in the darkness, their eyes could make out places in the distance that seemed to have a flicker of light, and some bulky shapes nearby resembled doors or walls. Walking together as they were, all were careful not to pace blindly into something hard.

"And what's so creepy about this place?" Téa asked. "It's too dark to see anything that would even remotely scare us."

Yugi wasn't so certain. He had a feeling the sable air was hiding the very things that would soon surround and trap them…the feeling of being stifled was growing overwhelming to their senses.

Tristan brushed against the wall, backing away quickly with a shout of "Whoa!" when something slimy touched his arm, leaving a sticky residue. Just at that moment, Téa screamed when something thick and clinging dropped over her body and pulled at her like a lasso.

Someone yelled something in a deep voice, reaching to grab Joey and Yugi, the latter of whom was dashing off a ways to escape the predicament, taking one too many turns and ending up in a place he couldn't easily find his way back through. Joey had fainted dead away on the floor.

Drawn forward against her will to one of those places with the black lights shining dimly, Téa dragged her feet and struggled to get out of the sticky web. As soon as she realized what she was indeed caught in—a huge, sticky spider web—she shrieked louder and twisted. A loud clicking and sickening stench came from the widening room, and some trails of red blood reflected the light.

Seeing all the props had more of an effect on Téa than she would have wanted to admit. But it was when the bulbous body of a spider descended from the ceiling that she finally found the willpower to tear the threads and run down the hall, half-stumbling over Joey, which made her go faster. She smacked into Tristan, and the two of them charged down the corridor until their panting lungs made them need to slow.

Behind, alone on the floor, Joey groaned in his unconscious state.

* * *

Somewhat uneasily, Yugi looked around the area he was now in, wondering if the blindingly dark passage on his left or the blindingly dark passage on the right was the one he had come from. His friends needed his help back there! 

The internal voice that was never too far from him was trying to help calm down his partner with easy words.

_Yugi, it's all right. Just take a few breaths. Let me take over for you._

Sometimes, the short punk thought his other persona had too much power and was too well-liked when he was out, but now…not a doubt hid in his mind that what Yami said was for the best. The ancient spirit was better able to take care of matters such as these, and he was, for the most part, better at the games.

The Puzzle flashed and made a blinding light in the tunnels under the Kaiba mansion. Yugi shifted with the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle, hoping all would work out now for the better.

_We need to find the others_, Yugi thought to his other self, voice more courageous now that his heart was back to normal and this other persona was in charge.

"Right, Yugi. We'll soon have won this game and found our way out of this maze. There's no game I can't win! I thought Mokuba already knew that, but I guess I'll be showing him again."

Unaware of just what those words meant, if it were anything at all (he didn't really recall Yami's earliest duels with Mokuba), Yugi grimly agreed about winning this game. First, find their friends and some cards; then, get out of the maze.

It wouldn't be too much for the gamer, that he knew. Didn't Yami win _everything_?

* * *

The world was dark. He had gone blind! Panicking, he sat up with a gasp, groaning and feeling the spot on his head where he had fallen on it. 

"Mebbe I should sue."

Muttering more curses darkly, Joey stumbled to his feet and calmed as he realized his eyes were not blind. He was still in the Kaiba Killing Mansion. Despite Mokuba's assurances that things were different, he couldn't help but feel like this was all Death-T happening again. Half-waiting to hear "I cud you ub wid dis," Joey sidled backward until he felt a reliable wall behind him. Walls were some of the best friends; they so rarely ditched out on you.

"Speakin' a'which, where de heck are _my_ pals? Dey ran out on me!" Joey glared down one side of the tunnel to the other side, wondering which direction they had gone. He could not recall the events before his…_minor snooze_ the best, so he couldn't be certain which way to go now.

A light was dimly glowing off to his left, and thinking that was a good sign of _something_, Joey headed that way. Maybe a card was in there! How could light be anything _but_ good?

A glance into the room changed his mind very swiftly.

A huge spider was sitting dormant on a gigantic web, but its pincers were twitching in anticipation of a kill, and clicks of them thudded heavily in his head. Just seconds were between him and its awareness turning toward him…hunting for another victim…

Maybe this spider is what made his friends _leave_ him. Maybe they were but another dinner of this bulbous beast.

No! Joey thought frantically, grabbing his head and making his hair even messier. Mokuba wouldn't let things in this maze actually kill us! This is just a fake monster to make me too freaked out to get a card and get out!

Fake or not, the spider was still menacing. And it was turning his way, jittering to itself in a whispery, evil-sounding tone. Rooted to the floor, it was all Joey could do to remain conscious. If he fainted now…Gulping convulsively, Joey decided to not think about fainting at the moment.

"I oughtta dink about runnin' 'stead a'faintin'!" Joey threatened his legs to move, warned them to get him out of here or be amputated. When they still didn't listen—the closest to obeying his order was their growing a slight tremble—Joey tore at his hair and wondered how he'd get himself out of this fix.

The spider was approaching slowly, savoring the impending attack and enjoying the smell of fear on her victim. Spindly legs clicking closer, doing an eight-legged dance of death, the arachnid's eyes gleamed in the black light, gaining a hint of purple.

"Nice, spider. Dere, spider. Just be nice to li'l Joey, now. What'd he do t'a you? Just 'cuz he's stuck doesn't mean he doesn't _wanna_ get away and leave ya 'lone."

His voice was not having the desired effect on the spider; instead of slowing her approach, she continued on, pincers waving wickedly and all attention focused on the youth before her.

Just a matter of time remained for Joey to get his legs to work or think of some way out of this.

Fist curling naturally into its one set of defense, Joey looked at it like it was a foreign part of his body and doing these actions contrary to his will. But then…his fists had never failed him yet. Maybe, just maybe, they'd be of use to him now. Worth a shot, wasn't it?

Chuckling at his own lame humor, Joey wound up with his fist, readying his fist for the shot at the spider, the only shot he'd have before the spider retaliated and speared him for death.

"Fiiiiiist a' death!" Joey yelled like he was some Duel Monster himself, and he attacked the spider's rounded, soft eyes above the pincers.

The body instantly deflated on the eyes, and something like ooze burst out on his hand, covering it with a dark liquid. As the pop sounded in the air, Joey thought it sounded suspiciously like a balloon popping.

Then a grin crossed his face as the spider stopped moving completely, just falling flat to the floor.

"I knew Mokuba wouldn't kill us!" It didn't stop him wondering what strange concoction was sinking into his skin, but he hoped it was all for show. And just _what_ was controlling the spider that it stopped all movements now?

"Some sorta robot?" Legs now functioning completely normally, Joey investigated the collapsed beast.

Just how much had Mokuba used to put together this little haunted house? No expenses spared like his big brother? A rock in the pit of his stomach made Joey feel like hurling—and he knew it was the rock. It wasn't because of the fright he had had or anything so wussy as that. Not him, Joey Wheeler.

The legs were still twitching in a semblance of the throes of death, but normally, a punch in the eyes even if it shattered them, wouldn't kill such a gigantic beast. Joey had, after all, seen _The Lord of the Rings_. Shelob hadn't given up even with her glittering eye's light put out. With a smirk, the street fighter examined the beast and was certain that was exactly who this spider was supposed to resemble.

Like Joey had originally thought, the arachnid was a type of robot. Imagining those pincers squeezing his middle made him swallow a lump in his throat, for the pincers were glinting evilly, the light flickering on their metal surface. He just had to hope that the robot was never going to actually attack him. After all, breaking the balloon eyes had ceased its movements entirely. Maybe any contact with a person would halt it.

"Maybe I'm dinking too much in dis. I mean, it's more concentration I put in school!"

Joey, shaking his head and getting the blond bangs out of his eyes, took a step over the spider's prone form and debated wiping his greasy hands on the web, but seeing its sticky filaments, thought better of it.

Then, at the center of the gigantic web, he saw it. A card. A Duel Monsters card.

"Awright! I get one! I get one!" He hurried through the web, which was as thick as jump ropes. Fortunately, for their immense size, large gaps were between strands. Nearly getting entangled and touching its strands as he hastened to get through the web, eventually, after a few near trips and stumbles, he was before the podium holding the single card, the black light shining behind it.

Joey took the card and pocketed it. "A piece a'Exodia?"

* * *

_Whew...longer, but you made it! Thanks for sticking it through! We're going somewhere, I swear!_


	19. Eighteen: A Piece of Exodia

Chapter Eighteen: A Piece of Exodia

_I knew I hated sleep for a good reason. Nightmares must be the work of some demon playing games with me. What's the point in all this? I should just forget it all and move on. I don't care if the feeling of never quite being finished with something ever fades. I forgot those things for a reason. Why should I want to relive them on the whim of someone who claims to have my well-being at mind? _

_No one has ever had my well-being in mind._

_But it is about someone else. I must recall these things to see if I know anything of importance from that night. Still the days dwindle through my fingers, escaping and I can never halt them…

* * *

_

The various groups that were wandering in the immense basement were staring, mostly with awe and plenty of trepidation, at all the preparations Mokuba had gone through to create this haunted house for them. With only a week's advance time, all the rooms and added monsters, doors, and walls seemed like too much work even for a mansion with its profuse collection of servants.

"You borrowed some of my castoffs from Kaiba Land and…Death-T, didn't you?" Kaiba asked his younger brother as they were walking in the maze, their flashlight beam highlighting the bare floor.

"Yup. I couldn't manage to make a whole bunch of new collections in so short a time. And you were too busy to ask for help. I thought you wouldn't mind, considering these were nearly lost in the old warehouse and lab anyway."

"They were just gathering dust," Kaiba commented, eyes visualizing his various creations. "I'm glad you finally found a use for them. They were meant to give children joy. And even if these people aren't the _children_ I had in mind"—here Kaiba grimaced—"it works all the same.

Prancing along beside his older brother, not the least baffled from which direction he was planning on going, Mokuba listened with one ear for any hints that his friends were nearby. He wondered if any had one of the cards yet.

"I kinda wish we had a setup like you did—uh, _before_. You know, cameras set up to watch how they were doing. But I didn't have enough time to add in a bunch of cameras, especially ones that would work with the darkness and still manage to see despite the added walls I put up. We'd've needed _a lot_ of cameras to see everywhere."

"This is just fine, Mokuba. I'm quite impressed with what you've managed to create here, especially all on your own."

Swelling with so much pride his head was threatening to float off his neck, Mokuba fell silent and was glad the darkness hid his smile.

* * *

Something skittered off in the darkness, making Téa stifle a shriek. 

"Are you _sure_ we're going in a safe direction, Tristan?" she asked accusingly.

Her companion looked over his left shoulder and then his right, backing away from the skittering sound. At the very least, Téa thought sourly, his hair might be used as a weapon if he couldn't do anything else like even pick a good direction.

"That's it; we're doing this my way. Just follow _me_ this time. I'll show you right to a card so we can get starting out of here. And finding the others. Why did I have to get stuck with _you_ out of all the others!"

Frowning, Tristan crossed his arms. "You're _lucky _to be with me, you mean. Don't worry; I'll protect you, Téa."

"Oh? Then why is that skittering still coming closer? Take care of it if you're so certain you'll protect me! So far, you haven't gotten me convinced."

Glancing back into the darkness, one black as absolute as the next—though the rage and skepticism came off Téa in a color and aura as vibrant as any light—Tristan felt his skin crawl at the sound of that skittering coming closer. Only a very few creatures could move in what could even remotely be categorized as a "skitter." And if this creature were indeed one of them, it wasn't one Tristan wanted to see anytime soon.

"This is how I'll protect you."

Without a warning, Tristan grabbed her hand and yanked her along after him, choosing corridors and paths at random, fortunate only in that they didn't crash headlong into any real—or constructed—wall.

Once, a sudden indrawn breath from nearby made Tristan's stride falter, but Téa just shoved into him. The inertia moved them beyond the point quickly. No doubt, if it were one of his friends, he would have been shouting something to snag their attention.

So off they continued, seeking out anything that seemed safe or to hold one of the many things they were searching for: cards, lights, friends, or the exit.

* * *

"I hear something, Seto!" Mokuba stopped moving, listening to someone rustling about nearby. 

"Should we make this game more interesting and take away any cards people have if we find them?"

Sensing his brother's smirk, Mokuba still couldn't give in. "Nah…I think they'll have a hard enough time. But I think I'll see who this person is…" Quietly, as quiet as their voices had been, Mokuba moved away down the hall to peer around a corner.

"Master Mokuba."

The calm voice made the boy jump into the air and whirl the opposite direction of which way he had been looking. Trying to make his breathing less shaky and not allow anyone to see his heart flapping like a bat encaged, Mokuba turned to the butler.

"Y-yes?"

"I would like to report to you that the spider has been beaten and that card taken. That's all so far."

Taking this news in for a startled minute, Mokuba shook his head. "That's _all?_ See, Seto? It definitely is hard enough for them already. Hasn't it been nearly thirty minutes already?"

Chuckling in the background, without a face visible and sounding like some sort of demon, Kaiba crossed his arms and scoffed. "It'll take these people far longer than that, Mokuba. You've made too good of a hunt and maze for them. And I wouldn't be surprised if, somehow, they were screwing things up for each other."

Not quite as certain about the gang's mess-ups as his brother, Mokuba put a hand to his chin, wondering which way they should go. Would he have to help the gang eventually? Maybe he'd take out all the workers playing roles in the maze to scare and hinder the gang.

Kaiba seemed to be scanning his mind like Pegasus with the Millennium Eye.

"We shouldn't have to help them, Mokuba. Let's just continue to see how they're doing before we interfere. You know _Yugi_'ll be able to handle it just fine."

Slowly nodding, Mokuba turned his eyes from facing up to his brother back to the butler before him. He could tell from the air movements and the dancing shadow in the flashlight's circle of brightness that the man had bowed.

"Yes, you can get back to what you're supposed to be doing. I'll let you know if the agenda ever changes."

The man vanished utterly into the shadows, black clothing and soft shoes lending themselves to the background and the silence.

Silence wasn't supposed to be everywhere.

"Let's check to see if the music is on where it's supposed to be! I wouldn't want the creepy sounds to miss their chance to join the spooky night. I knew those Halloween tapes from America would help us out!"

"Heh, I hope Wheeler heads that way, too."

Mokuba aimed the flashlight back to the floor and began hurrying off in a certain direction. And, being tugged along by his brother's anxious hand—and so as not to become lost—Kaiba followed along after.

Such a maze...

Without his brother, Kaiba knew he'd be lost, helplessly, hopelessly lost.

* * *

Panting, Yami hurried down one path and then another, about to yell out the names of his friends. Abruptly, he closed his mouth, thinking shouts might summon less savory people toward him. Stealth was best for now. 

_Don't forget about those cards!_

Chuckling darkly, Yami assured his other self, "Don't worry, Yugi. I'll find our friends and all the cards we need and all long before anyone would expect it of us. I excel at these games."

_I know, Yami. I do. Let's go._

Nodding, the Spirit of the Millennium Puzzle set off down the hall again, a certain place in mind. Or rather, in view. A red light glowed dimly in a distant room. The others would most likely try to find their way to the light, and maybe, some cards were in the place with the light as well.

At the threshold of the room with the red glow, Yami stopped and slowly peeked in, eyes already adjusting to the new light.

A mahogany coffin was resting gently on a table, lid completely closed. Red tapers set off a golden glow to the scene, but the majority of the light filtered in through a lamp covered with red crepe paper. The rest of the room, walls and floors, were bare. No carpets, no pictures, no other decorations.

"Something must be in that coffin." Although coffins normally locked upon shutting, Yami had no doubt that _this_ one would open again.

Yugi was greatly relieved that he wasn't the one out at the moment. Nothing, almost absolutely nothing would get him to open a coffin all alone in a red-tinted room. Mokuba had to have something hidden within it.

Taking long strides, Yami never faltered as he approached the coffin. He reached out a hand to the lid, beginning to pull it back, but he felt his best friend's hesitation and fear. Before doing something possibly detrimental, he had to work to calm down his other self.

"Yugi, don't worry. Everything's fine. Nothing in there will hurt us."

_That might be true…but it's still freaky! What if one of the servants is dressed up in there waiting to lunge at us? And I can't stand coffins! People whose funerals I've attended have always been cremated._

"Well, others have long interred their dead. And as to if there is a servant in there…they'll just try to startle us and get us to run. No big deal."

_No big deal! All right, Yami. Whatever you say._ The derision in the boy's voice was obvious. _This is just a haunted mansion set up by the brother of a genius billionaire, after all. Nothing else much would happen._

Shrugging, Yami smirked. "Aren't you at least curious as to what's inside?"

_Not really._

"Well, I am. And I bet there's a Duel Monsters card in there we need. We can't pass that by, can we? We need a few sets to get everyone out of here."

Sighing, Yugi relinquished his arguments. _Fine, Yami. I trust you. Go ahead._

The Spirit resumed creaking open the lid, needing both hands to haul it up. Finally, a loud, echoing click sounded in the still air, and a musty, putrid scent wafted to their nostrils. It smelled worse than any of the Egyptian pyramids, Yami was certain.

Still, undeterred, he continued to heft it open, eyes eagerly scanning down into the dark depths as he heaved the lid farther.

Maggots. Swarms of maggots feasting on something rotted and the king of all putrescence. Now that the lid was completely open, Yami saw the creatures dripping from the inside of the lid and at the squiggling worms inching their way out of the coffin, some squirming onto his arms.

Dismayed and shocked despite himself, Yami was about to leap back and let the lid fall and maybe squish the maggots that happened to be wriggling in an unfortunate spot. Before he could, a small protruded section of brown caught his attention. Ignoring Yugi's moans and determination to get out of there, Yami did the unavoidable and plucked at the brown, feeling the slippery surface of a card. Unfortunately, his touch made it sink farther in the bath of baby flies.

Doing the inevitable, clenching his teeth, Yami sunk his hand into the oozing mass and ignored how the worms were rolling onto his skin and making his skin feel like a writhing, bubbling disease. He grabbed at the single solid shape, knowing that a few maggots had burst with his strong clasp, and yanked out the card and his hand. Somewhat subconsciously (urged and nearly done by Yugi, no doubt), the hand shook frantically, sending the white little crawlies all over with small smacking sounds.

Only after he shut the lid and locked most of the maggots within, only when Yugi could no longer feel the inching and quivering forms of the bodies so easy to burst, did Yami clench the card in his fist and look at it proudly.

"One down, Yugi. Just fourteen to go." Bakura was, after all, opting to work on his own.

The Right Hand of the Forbidden One.


	20. Nineteen: Friends to Foes

Chapter Nineteen: Friends to Foes

_Smoke always seems to be present in that damned room of the psychiatrist. And now he wants to give me some medication to allow me more sleep. Not sleeping well…no wonder when I'm visited by these common haunts! And he was the one who wanted me to see if any answers could be found through the dreams. Maybe I'm even scaring my doctor. I do know this; I'm not going to be controlled by some medication._

_I'll get the answers myself, in my own way.

* * *

_

Already, one of the needed cards was in his hand. The Spirit of the Millennium Ring had found it in a room holding a collection of what looked like used weapons. Enjoying the place immensely, he had scoped out the weapons and even practiced with a few just for the sake of old times. Also, because he knew it would make his host body upset had he known. And the Spirit was highly sick of his host body.

"I need a new one," he muttered to himself. "A new body that doesn't fight me as much." Memories rose of that time when the real Bakura, Ryo Bakura, had been taking control of his body during a Monster World game, a tabletop role playing game. His pitiful host had ruined everything then. If such strong willpower were always going to get in the way of his fun…well, the thief-king wouldn't stand for it.

"Perhaps…that plan I had at Duelist Kingdom will come in handy. I can try again. I know such a young body wouldn't be able to fight me as hard. And I could even gain some control of the Kaiba Corporation and use it to lead me to more Millennium Items!"

Leaving the room then in more haste than he had been before, Yami Bakura set off to find more cards or, more importantly, Mokuba.

No doubt, the boy would be back in the starting room, and that was the direction he headed. The twists and turns he had taken remained a vivid print in his mind—such tactics remained from times robbing tombs; to find the way out of all the tricky rooms, one needed a quick, clever, and retaining mind. And that had not faded with years.

"Soon I'll be rid of this annoying body and have a far better one!"

Cackling with glee, Bakura hastened down the dark corridors, his own presence adding a fright to the area that the servants and others could not do. The servants would never harm anyone for real in the game. Thief-King Bakura, on the other hand, found a great enjoyment with pain, even his own.

* * *

Looking again at the card in his hand, Joey snapped his fingers and did a victory dance. He just had four more to go. Four more and find his friends.

"I betta get goin', den. Dis is just de Left Leg a'de Forbidden One."

As pleased as Joey was with his recent prize, he wasn't too optimistic. That spider-thing had completely freaked him out—for just a _limited_ time!—and there was no telling what worse horrors awaited him.

"Time t' get goin' t' get more cards!"

Joey took off down the corridor with a jaunty swagger, hoping over-enthusiasm, underestimating things would make it all seem less than it was. At least then, he hoped no one would seek him out, thinking he looked like easy prey to single out and harass. After all, Joey was an expert on the cases of bullies. They singled out the weak ones.

"I gotta find Yuge!"

Yugi was, after all, the one bullies always went after.

Walls changed as Joey strode onward. Torches lit the walls, flickering and smoking like lighting up an ancient castle. Rock and stone took over the cardboard texture, and Joey contemplated examining them to see if the walls were really stone now or plastic or just painted expertly. Besides the walls and textures, the ground even turned into a near-cobblestone blend. A murmuring trace of mothballs and dampness lingered in the air.

"Someone put _way_ too much work inta dis ding."

Slipping the card into a pocket, the teen kept both hands free just in case he needed them. And it was no time too soon.

Something went dashing nearby in the corridor next to him, and Joey stifled a yelp quickly, turning it more into a gasp. Whatever that speed was for, it couldn't have been a good thing.

"I hope my friends are all right! I wouldn't want dem t' be in trouble!"

Debating about whether or not to go see if the person needed help, Joey decided to stay where he was. After all, if it had been a servant or hired freaky thing, no reason existed for Joey to seek them out.

The light in his halls spaced out so that it looked like the corridor would never end. But eventually, he found an olden-time room bearing a huge fireplace and a four-tiered bed complete with a canopy and bolstered covers that sent Joey straight back to that virtual world Kaiba had created before.

"Stupid bath robe! Dis looks all too much like Adina's castle."

Shuddering, even with the skin rug on the floor and collection of candles on the walls that made this the brightest room on the floor, Joey nearly fell back in fake light again.

"Dis room's gotta be here for a reason. I just gotta find out why."

Scratching his head, Joey looked over the bed, the chairs, the tapestry…but nothing stood out at him. As far as he could tell, there was not even anything inside here that seemed the least bit spooky.

"Eh? Whaddya lookin' at, scrap metal?" Joey had never felt very attached to the suits of armor after the secondvirtual world where Noah had trapped them and the suit of armor Joey had seen _somehow_ ended up in a pile on the floor. As far as he was concerned, that was where this suit of armor belonged as well.

"Time t' take ya out."

Joey approached the armor, suddenly stopping. Had it just been the flicker of the fireplace or had the helmeted head just turned slightly? What a fool he'd been! Someone was _always_ awaiting them in suits of armor. And this suit of armor even was holding one of those blood-thirsty halberds!

"Not dis time…I _know_ someone's in dere! Come out!"

Joey held up his fists in the appropriate defensive style, ready to change and attack at a simple movement.

The armor wasn't moving anymore. Not a single hollow clank or glimmer of the light moved on the shiny metal. But that didn't mean Joey was letting down his guard now. That armor was never going to see his back.

"Stupid metal ding! Head a tin can? Get de heck outta dat armor and fight me like a man!"

And, being so preoccupied with the threat before him, Wheeler never gave a thought to the tapestry whispering softly in a breeze all its own making. Silent boots fell behind him, and slowly, the masked figure crept up behind the young man still spewing forth profanities, threats, and taunts.

The solid stone floor did not betray the sneaker with a creak, as wood might. Even the torches were flickering so much that his movements, had the figure been so incautious as to cast shadows, were unrecognizable as a single person's. Joey had no idea of what was loitering behind him, awaiting the perfect moment to seize his throat and squeeze…squeeze…_squeeze._

"Maybe dere's a card in dere!" Joey brightened up immediately, walking forward to the suit of armor and preparing to open the visor and look down its darkened depths.

Before he could take a single step forward, something strong and heavy clamped down over his face and neck, dragging the struggling victim away from the armor and into the darkness beyond the fireplace.

* * *

"Heh, three cards already. Both arms and one leg. There's a reason I'm called the King of Games."

Yugi couldn't help but feel Yami was boasting a _tad_ too much, but he stayed quiet. The sooner they found the cards and could leave, the better. This game of Mokuba's wasn't so much fun anymore. At least, not to him. Yami seemed to be enjoying himself immensely.

The other two rooms where they had retrieved the cards hadn't been as bad as the maggots. One was covered with what looked like scattered blood, but nothing horrible had happened in there. The other room had a skeleton that they had had to reach through to the ribcage to get the card. It hadn't helped that the bones seemed to have shifted when they reached in, but no fingers had been sacrificed to the dead.

"Yugi, we will soon be getting the rest of the cards!"

_I believe it. But why haven't we encountered any of our friends yet?_

Pondering as he walked through the halls, Yami finally concluded, "This place must be bigger than we anticipated. Have you ever been in the Kaiba basement before? Maybe there are some underground tunnels included here or something."

_Most likely. They probably have a bunch of secret passages, too._ The prospect of crawling and finding hidden halls would have enthused Yugi except for how tired he was of this maze by now. Over an hour had passed, and neither felt like he had reached any familiar place.

Chuckling, Yami commented, "It reminds me of the various pathways in the pyramids with all the false rooms and trap routes."

…_That's reassuring, Yami._

The pharaoh only smirked and continued on his way, certain that soon, he would be smirking in the face of Mokuba (and then Bakura) as his friends stood behind him on the other side of that dungeon door.


	21. Twenty: Several Dead Ends

Chapter Twenty: Several Dead Ends

_So much of my day is useless. School. Work. Doctor visits. All of it has led up to what? Nothing. Nothing at all. I am not at all closer to finding answers than I was a whole month ago._

_Still, as I walk through my house and look around at everything, I feel like there is some comfort in staying busy. At least it keeps my mind preoccupied from thinking of the images that constantly barrage me.

* * *

_

Standing back and smirking, Tristan merely watched as Téa turned slowly, examining the walls at this end of the hall. She was so quick to tell him he hadn't known where he was going, but his friend proved no better.

"Guess you aren't such a good leader, after all, Téa. Or could we somehow vaporize through this dead end?"

"Shut up, Tristan!" Angrily, Téa kicked the wall and felt tears spring to her eyes as her shoes pinched her toes. Little spirals of shock rocketed up her leg. But it was more frustration and annoyance that had caused her eyes to water.

Not a single card had they gained, mainly because they were determined to stay away from the potentially dangerous rooms. Plenty of people dressed in grotesque forms and masks had already leaped out at them various times, and so they had allowed themselves to be pursued until all hope of seeing anything familiar had long since faded.

"I just want to find the others!" Téa crossed her arms and leaned against a wall, giving up completely.

A grinding of rock on rock came out through the air, and she tripped backward with a scream of surprise. The darkness swallowed her up.

"Téa?" Tristan poked his head in through the secret passages. He gave a muffled sound of surprise and almost toppled over when a hand had snatched his head and tugged him within.

"It's a secret passage! Do you think this is part of the game Mokuba set up? Or is this a real secret place that the Kaibas don't even know about? Maybe we can get out this way!" Téa pounded a hand on Tristan as she said each syllable.

"Don't kill me, Téa!" He ripped his arm free from her grasp and rubbed it. "But if this isn't part of the game, we can't do it! Mokuba is thinking we're in here. And the kid worked so hard; that's evident. We can't just go wherever we want."

"Come on, Tristan…this is just a little detour before we complete the game. And maybe this is part of the area. Do you really want to go back out there and face all those nasty skittering things and unknown other terrors?"

Putting his hand to his head, Tristan studied the ceiling that was invisible in the inkiness. Sighing deeply, he turned back to Téa.

"All right. We'll see where this goes."

Smiling, her white teeth became the last glint he saw as blackness devoured the two. They tread down the musty corridor where no glimmer of light ever existed. A faint scratching of claws on the floor made Téa moan and Tristan make a face, but they continued walking regardless, feeling their way along the dusty, damp walls, each step carefully felt out before placed.

As the corridor continued on for fifteen minutes, nothing changing, Téa, who was still in the lead, began to change her mind.

"Maybe you're right…we shouldn't follow this route."

Tristan was debating over whether to make a snide comment or just agree and turn around when Téa screamed. She crashed into Tristan, who was beginning to seriously dislike how much that was happening, and tore back down the corridor to the way they had entered.

Digging in his heels, Tristan managed to drag the frantic girl to a stop outside the entrance to the passage, demanding to know what had happened.

"The walls!" she gasped out. "They were—they were _fuzzy_!"

"Moss? Mold?"

"No! _Furry_! Like an animal!"

"Maybe that was part of the set-up. I've been in a haunted house where they've put fur on the walls before."

"It was alive! I swear!"

Skeptical, Tristan wasn't foolish enough to think they would be going back in that direction, and he wasn't certain he wanted to, anyway. So they began to backtrack again.

* * *

"Aaah! Get off a'me!" Joey struggled and kicked, freeing one arm from his throat so he could refresh on the air he had just blown out.

His right arm jerked back almost in a spasm, punching at whoever had grabbed him. A grunt sounded and the grasp loosened enough that he was completely free. Whirling, Joey raised both fists and faced his attacker.

As the figure's face hid in the shadows of a hood, Joey wound up to stick his hand right into the shadow of the hood. He couldn't wait to hear the anticipated sound of a nose breaking. But before he could get his fist close enough, the figure danced backward, throwing some powder that made Wheeler overtaken completely by sneezes.

"No—_achoo_—fair! Cheata! _Achoo_!"

The person trying to imitate Death, no doubt, dashed down the corridor in a less-than-impressive mode of spookily gliding.

Trying to wave a fist after the person at the very least, Joey bended over as the sneezes completely enveloped him. Eyes red and running, nose and throat throbbing, and liquid snot dripping all over him, Joey looked monstrous himself. Straightening when the wracking sneezes finally filtered to an end, he held his arms out from his torso and looked down at himself.

"Dad's jusd nod fair."

Ironic that so much sneezing had only clogged his nose.

Giving a shake like the dog Kaiba enjoyed calling him, the street fighter realized how futile it all was. And he hadn't brought a change of clothes at all.

"Oh…I hobe id dries quiggly."

Who _was_ that attacker? Someone hired to do the work? And why had the person had a sneezing powder? Protection just in case someone attacked them like Joey just had? All of it was becoming vastly confusing to the blond.

"And I wanna card!"

Joey wiped his hands on the fur carpet before the fireplace. Then he straightened and resumed his search of the room, looking behind him quickly, once, just to be sure. Then, sniffing deeply to clear his breathing, he paced the room in his search for another piece of Exodia the Forbidden One.

That suit of armor…that was right! The armor had been where he was heading when that cloaked figure attacked him. Most likely, something important rested in it, which was why the person had tried to throttle him.

Anxiously, Joey opened the visor. Everything inside appeared as blank and void as the lowest depths of an ocean cave. So Joey did what was next required: placing an arm through the open visor, he felt around just to be certain nothing hid within.

"A room widout any cards! Dat's dumb!" Suddenly, a thought reached the distant contours of his vague mind. "Or maybe someone already got de card! I'm too slow! Argh!"

With a furious kick right where it ought to have hurt any man, or woman, for that matter, Joey turned around, leaving the armor in a clattered pile behind him, the firelight still flaring and dancing on the walls, beckoning the next sucker to arrive within.

* * *

At least four of the rooms they had found hadn't been raided yet. And those servants stationed at various places were encouraged for their efforts and thanked once more. A few even enjoyed themselves immensely; after all, working for the Kaibas seldom had perks like this.

Though the servant had told him already, the younger Kaiba's face fell when they entered one dimly-lit room. "The spider's been defeated! My Shelob impersonator has been vanquished like the real one!"

Mokuba pointed sadly to the balloon eyes that had been broken, and he dragged its sorry piece of machinery off to the side where it could still ominously preside over any people finding the area. No need to restart it, though, because that would nearly be the same as cheating.

"What other kinds of surprises do you have waiting for everyone?" Kaiba asked, observing the spider machine he had made a long time ago.

Giving a smile up to his brother, Mokuba said, "Oh, this and that…just enough to creep the bejiggins out of them."

"'Bejiggins?' That's not one of your vocabulary words. That's not a word at all."

"If you can use 'geniusness,' I can use 'bejiggins.' It just means as much as possible for whatever you use it to represent. The way I used it, I was referring to the fact that they're going to be as scared as much as possible."

"Hmm," Seto replied noncommittally.

"Come on…it's a good word."

Snorting, Kaiba continued walking toward the door. "I think, if you were to make up a word, it ought to be one people would more likely believe. One that sounds…well, not so obviously made up."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Geniusness."

Mokuba debated arguing with his brother for that, but decided Seto would be expecting it. So, the boy merely made a sound of scorn as he took the lead once more, heading to the next closest room to check on the participants' progress. Maybe they'd finally see one of his friends within.

Where could they all have gotten lost? Perhaps the Kaibas would have to take another route from the very beginning of the maze. After all, a few of those places didn't intersect with the rest, and the others could have gone back through after they had left.

"Seto, are these going to run out of batteries?"

Kaiba glanced down at his brother where the boy was tapping the rim of the glasses.

"They don't run on regular batteries. They take some high-voltage ones that ought to last for several hours even with constant use."

"Oh, should I turn them off, then?"

"No, go ahead; document your Kaiba Mansion Haunted House and see if you can sell it for some money. The idiots out in the world will buy anything."

"…We don't need any more money."

Shrugging, Kaiba replied, "Well, those fools almost deserve to lose it. But fine, if you want _me_ to be the only one earning money in this household…"

Mokuba could tell his brother was teasing him, but he immediately turned toward him. "Hey! You _pay_ me for some of the things I do for the company!"

"No, I give you an allowance. There's a difference."

"But I do things to _earn_ the allowance. I do work at the company. I make copies and print things out! I've made graphs for you!"

Keeping his stern lips from curling into a smile, Seto shrugged again. "Sure. But now you could have done some _real_ work and gotten paid for it."

"Hmph. What I've done _is_ real work.

"Whatever you say, little brother. Want a raise? It'll—"

"What about that hacking I've helped you with?" Mokuba broke in, determined to get some adequate respect.

Seto fell silent. "That was something you thought was fun."

"So did you. But you still considered it work for you."

"Fine; you had one real job. Congratulations. Want a party to celebrate it?"

"I'm already having one. And we have to find the others!"

Mokuba dashed down the hall, missing seeing his brother's small grin, but his eyes saw it anyway. He always held Seto's smile in his mind where it would live forever.


	22. Twenty One: Setup or Reality?

Chapter Twenty-One: Set-up or Reality?

_Many times, I wonder what life would have been like had I done things differently. Where would my brother and I be if I had chosen a different path? If I had not challenged Gozaburo, for one?_

_But such instances only make my nightmares worse, for I feel even guiltier. Somehow, that is the only feeling that has been left to me besides sorrow or anger. I should have done this or been prepared for that...and all of it is worthless because I cannot go back._

_If I could go back, I'd have taken my brother and run away, preferring life in poverty than this. But then I am straight back to worsening my nightmares.

* * *

_

The sound of a moaning wind complete with a creaking door or coffin drifted in the utter night within doors. As he walked on farther, the sounds grew louder; eventually a distant wailing baby came from a room lit in blue colors.

_What's in _this_ room?_ Yugi asked.

"We won't know until we check it out," the Spirit answered, louder than usual to cover the tones of the spooky music.

Before the short teenager could enter the area in the blue light, a skittering sound came from his right. Fortunately, he heard it over the music and moved to the left, eyes trying to pierce the blackness to see what was there.

"That sounded like a scorpion."

_A scorpion! Yami, there can't be scorpions here! That's insane! That's unfair! We've got to get out of here!_

"Yugi…calm down. I doubt they'd be real. And I doubt that if they're real they could even harm us. Something would have been done to them to make certain they couldn't kill us. Kaiba's lost his backbone in doing anything truly dangerous."

…_I'm glad about that._

The pharaoh didn't reply. Instead, he stuck a foot out before him, yanking it back when he felt something try to prod it. Then, the skittering sound vanished down the hallway, soothing Yugi and making Yami smirk.

"I think it was kind of like a remote control car, only instead of hearing an engine, we heard real scorpion sounds. There was probably someone nearby controlling it, too."

_If you say so._

Now, attention ready to turn toward the blue-lit room, they entered it slowly, eyes scanning all around for potential threats.

A large mirror stood propped against the corner of the room, instantly drawing the eyes like the sound of sirens or someone saying, "Don't look." Other than the large mirror, rats scurried in cages all around the room, like a large tunnel. Knowing Yugi wanted to swallow convulsively, the Spirit of the Puzzle locked his jaw. Still…he had always hated rats back in Egypt, too. After the glass around the room, Yami shrugged.

Of course, he went to look in the mirror.

"Hmm. Nothing special about this." Dimly, in the bluish light, the punk stood confidently before the mirror, looking at himself.

About to turn away, something darker flashed in the mirror. Yami looked back quickly. A face besides his own rested in the mirror, a pasty pale one with deep red lips and ebony hair. With a grin, the face bared a set of sharp fangs, teeth glistening with the residue of blood.

_Yami! Get us OUT of here!_

The Pharaoh turned around, heart beating hard, but no one stood there. Yet, the face in the mirror didn't make sense if no one stood behind him…

Calming quickly, he replied, "A trick mirror. Just one that gets a figure in it. There's nothing to fear, Yugi. Just be on lookout for the card that must be hidden here."

Trying to sound as nonchalant as his other self, Yugi joked, _I hope it's not in with the rats._

"Hmm. Good idea. Let's check it out."

_Oh, no…_

Yugi did _not_ want another repeat experience like those maggots. Reaching his hand into the worms disgusted him enough.

The spooky music had ceased being a distant wailing child and now played a thunderstorm. Between the clashes of thunder, a chainsaw whirled, painting a vibrant picture in the mind.

All the walls had the small extension of a wire tunnel, holding in the piles of rats. The cages only reached as high as Yami's mid-calf, forming a small box with the wall and floor two sides of the snare.

"Hmph. I wonder what the animal rightists would say about this, Yugi?" Yami smirked as he continued looking at the rats so thickly in the cages they crawled atop one another.

His attempt to lighten the mood for his other self failed. Yugi did not respond and only formed a presence of quick breathing in Yami's mind.

Unseen, at their backs, the mirror tilted to allow out the figure who had watched them through the other side.

"I see no card."

"Oh, don't you?" came a low reply with a chuckle.

_YAMI!_

Spinning quickly, Yami couldn't resist the urge to back away as the pale figure smiled again at him. Only this time, no mirror stood between them. The crisp white shirt he wore stiffened from blood down the front, the black pants and coat accenting the red on white.

"Heh. Co—"

The lights went completely out, leaving them both in darkness. A wind went by, and Yami tensed, expecting an attack. But nothing of the sort happened. Well, almost nothing of the sort. Something flapped by in a large crowd, the tiny, high-pitched squeaks emitted leaving no doubt of what they were. Usually, though, bats' squeaks sounded above human hearing. It just convinced Yugi that these were no regular bats.

_Vampire bats!_

Nonsense, Yugi, Yami thought, ducking his head instinctively, though no bats had been in danger of impaling themselves on it.

After awhile, once silence had come again but for the tape playing steps outside in long grass, the blue lights flickered back on.

"Ah, here's a card." Yami stooped down and picked it up from where it lay near the mirror, almost like the vampiric man had dropped it there when he had no doubt changed into a bat. Except those things didn't happen.

They had found another Left Leg of the Forbidden One.

* * *

The path to the right seemed like a good one. Darker, cooler, more secluded. No one would follow him this far. Still, Joey kept up his quick pace as he raced between what seemed like rock walls and as he heard a few nasty crunches under foot. 

"I don't wanna dink what dat was!"

Arms in front of him in order not to crash into anything, the blond teen sped off down the corridor until a glint of light came from ahead. The light did not appear artificial—not strong enough for that. And its silvery essence pooling on the floor shone too pure for some sort of creepy concoction.

Moonlight. And stars.

"A winda? Just how far did I come?"

How could a basement have a window that gleamed outside? Then again, thinking back, Joey realized that he had been going uphill ever so slightly. Apparently, this passage led to a real window that looked out into the yard.

"De Kaiba mansion is huge."

Catching his breath, Joey had to return his eyes to the darkness in order to see any detail of the room. Nothing caught his attention. What he stood within appeared a simple, ordinary room. A chair sat nearby, and it represented his own century, not years earlier. A desk, empty, a bookshelf, filled, and a lamp turned off. Joey thought of turning it on and investigating, but he remembered how he had been chased and didn't want to leave any clues. Plus, turning a light on inside a room with a window would illuminate him to the outside.

"First, I wanna check what's out dere."

Going to bathe his body in the iridescent air, Joey gazed up at the dark sky, realizing that the time had grown even later. A smattering of stars decorated the black velvet, but the oblong moon remained what gave Joey a slight shadow.

There, sitting on the window pane, taunting him that he hadn't seen it before, rested a Right Arm of the Forbidden One. He snatched it and grinned at it, polishing the fake card before slipping it with the other one he had.

Then, he turned his gaze from the nearsighted window to the farsighted yard.

Someone stared at him.

Blinking and taken aback, Joey skedaddled off to the side of the window, gulping before peeking back out.

The form wore dark clothing, but the eyes glowed red. Quickly, Joey looked away again. He tried to calm his heart, believing this, too, had to be a setup of the haunted house and not some real spirit out to murder him for-no-real-reason otherthanithadtobevengefula_ndfullofangerasallghostswere_…(1)

Slowing the panic in his mind, Joey tried to talk himself into calming down.

"It's just some person dressed up. Not a ghost, not some vengeful bog spirit out t' eat my flesh. I'll just go on by and get back in de house and I'll forget all 'bout what I saw. Dat's right, Joey-man. We'll just go back down de corridor…"

Taking his first step by the window, his curiosity and natural impulse took control of him. He had to glance outside it just once more…

The glowing red eyes pressed before the window pane, close enough to look right into Joey's.

The teen stared for a split-second and then ran fast and hard back the way he'd come, brushing into something soft like fur on the walls. It only made him go faster.

* * *

(1): In case you need a translation: "He tried to calm his heart, believing this, too, had to be a setup of the haunted house and not some real spirit out to murder him for no real reason other than it had to be vengeful and full of anger as all ghosts were…" And naturally, this is Joey's belief, not my own opinion. 


	23. Twenty Two: The Perfect Plan

Chapter Twenty-Two: The Perfect Plan

_I've seen my brother's journal in his room, but I cannot touch it. It's not my business, not even now. My brother wouldn't want me reading it, so I must respect that. And reading it would be like admitting something I never will. Not yet.

* * *

_

"H-heh, heh, heh. Now I've got four!" Yami Bakura looked at his pieces, annoyed that he had three Exodia heads, but at least no one else would be finding those. "If I can't get out, no one else can, either." Grinning maliciously, his teeth glowed in the black light.

Already, he had walked through two sections of the maze that had led all to dead ends. And, encountering none of the others, the Thief-King now made his way to the starting point once more to go in a new direction, hopefully the direction Mokuba had chosen.

"The boy must have gone in one of these two directions." He suddenly looked down with a grin. "Why didn't I think of it sooner? RING! Show me where the little Kaiba is!"

With a _ching_, the tines all floated up, glowing, but they soon sank again, all five of them.

"RING! Find me the boy! Grrr…you should be able to track _more_ than Millennium Items! Fine; find me the Puzzle! Maybe they're together. And, well, if not, I always wanted the Millennium Puzzle anyway."

Still loitering in the main room with the four directions to choose from, he watched a tine point to his right. But Bakura hesitated. Some business came over pleasure, and as much as he wanted the Puzzle, circumstances making it so simple to take over Mokuba would not arise again very easily. He had to use this time for that and only that.

"Fine. We'll do things the hard way. I'll just go to the right and hope I find someone in there who can tell me where Mokuba is!"

The tomb robber set off to the right, laughing whenever he heard what sounded like footsteps, and to his disappointment, no one tried jumping out at him. One servant had attempted that long before, when he was finding his second Head of the Forbidden One, and the servant ended up running.

"I haven't had this much fun in years! Three thousand years!" (1) (1): Manga and Japanese number, as opposed to the faulty 5000 years the dubbed version uses.

Eventually, his excitement wore down and common sense took over despite his best battle to keep it away. Making so much noise and running like this probably wouldn't help him find Mokuba. The boy might be one of those trying to scare the seekers. So, Bakura went back to a walk and moved by tip-toe.

For once, he had perfect timing. Ahead of him, the pale figure caught strains of a conversation flitting through the air.

* * *

"You say he attacked you?"

"Y-yes, sir. And I sprayed him with the sneezing spray, but I'm worried about what he might end up doing to others."

Kaiba sighed, wanting to roll his eyes, but he managed to restrain himself. Wheeler always ended up a problem. This time, he thought he'd enjoy pulling rank on the other young man, warning him about attacking people who only played their role in the maze.

"You're going to find him, Seto?"

"Yeah, I better, or I'll have to hire an attorney to sue him for beaten servants. Listen; you keep checking out your maze while I go find Wheeler and let him know the rules. I'll catch back up with you somewhere…eventually."

Mokuba remained quiet a moment. "…All right. If that's what you want. See you soon?"

"Sure, kiddo. Make sure no one attacks _you_, all right?"

"They won't. And don't be too hard on Joey. I want him to stay the rest of the night!"

"Sure, sure, whatever."

Kaiba watched his brother vanish into the shadows while the servant began leading him back to the castle-like room, anxiously rubbing his hands together. The man's hood gathered at the base of his neck instead of shadowing his face, and his eyes scanned every direction. With a final sigh and glance back, the CEO thought he saw the glimmer of the dragon pendant's green eyes.

* * *

The dart whipped into a bull's-eye, and once it had, the lights around it flashed and sparkled. A slot opened on the side of the dart board, relinquishing a Right Arm of the Forbidden One.

"Now we have five! But not five of different pieces."

_Should we even think about leaving the repeats for the others? If we find them all, won't it make them more confused as to what they're supposed to be doing, such as if they get to a room that has no card whatsoever?_

"Don't worry about it, Yugi. I'm sure our friends aren't that stupid. And they'll be pleased to know we went to all the trouble to get them their own cards. Not everything, like hitting that bull's-eye, was the easiest part to manage. And I doubt anyone would begrudge how we had taken the card from the maggots. Who in their right mind would get a thrill of doing that? I think we ought to keep doing what we're doing."

Yami always seemed to know his friends so well, but all of what they had done to get the cards just reminded Yugi that the Spirit of the Puzzle played games better than even himself. And that knowledge rested within him uneasily.

So, Yugi concentrated on the room they stood in, wondering why such a room existed in the haunted mansion. Sure, they had had to use real daggers as darts, but other than that, only some fake cobwebs decorated the area. Had the Kaibas run out of spooky decorations here?

Standing there quietly, Yami went suddenly rigid.

"I can't believe I've never heard that until now. Listen. Evil laughter. Something like a bubbling cauldron."

Both Yugi and the pharaoh listened intently, agreeing that they heard another of those spooky music tapes.

"Should we investigate it closer?"

_Why not? We haven't been there before, that's certain. Unless things are changing on us. Or unless evil laughter and bubbling cauldrons was just later on that tape we heard before._

"I don't think they are. I recognize this place; we haven't been this way."

Wondering how Yami could possibly recognize one sable area from another, Yugi simply ceased replying. Maybe going in pyramids all one's life prepared one for such differences in…blackness.

It certainly didn't make Yugi anxious to trade places with Yami.

Down the hallway they went, the hollow whistling of the wind making them adamant that some tunnel reached outside, but still, they knew the sound came from the music. The wind slowly died until only the laughing witch reached their ears.

As the lights on the walls first appeared, their black fake flames made a difference in the utter darkness. However, as the eyes adjusted, the light didn't seem so miraculous, and everything appeared nearly as indiscernible as before. Even a low-lying cloud of fog swirled around on the ground, making his feet look like they sunk in puffy softness.

The only thing growing more distinct was the spooky tape.

Various methods of torture and murder passed through Kaiba's mind as he went after the servant seeking Joey. So many modes and all would be enjoyable to employ. Well, as long as Mokuba remained completely ignorant. And that was unlikely. So he'd have to stick with a harsh tongue lashing.

The walls grew stonier and cooler, too. Never had Kaiba been so proud of his brother as now when he saw all of the work and detail put into making this maze as perfect as could be.

The servant slowing and twitching to a half-hesitated halt at every cross of direction, Kaiba eventually strode before the man to take the lead.

"Just make sure I don't take a wrong turn."

"Yes, sir. But he's probably moved on by now."

"So stop cringing, then, and listen up, as well."

Both attuned to listening and only half paid attention to the detailed surroundings, but even half attention made one obvious of the time Mokuba had put into planning and preparing this place. Had all the servants helped him so much? How had the boy gotten it all completed in time?

No doubt, his brother would want to keep his secrets. But Kaiba could pry the answers out of him, he wagered.

"Here's the room, Mr. Kaiba." The servant gestured before the both of them. Then he stayed behind as Kaiba entered the area.

"Kid knows his history," he commented. "Even if all of these aren't always found in the same century."

Examining the canopied bed, Kaiba muttered something about that was where the sheets had gone to that the maids had noted missing. Before the skin rug, Kaiba bent down and peered at the matted fur, feeling like a member of a CSI team.

"Something was wet and dried on this."

The servant nervously moved one foot back and forth, peering back over his shoulder as if the fight-crazy teen would soon be in to attack him once more. The man had no practical use whatsoever.

"Well, it's obvious Wheeler moved on from this point. Let's see if we can hunt him down. You know the way through the maze?"

Shifting his weight, the servant nodded with a quiet, "Yes, sir."

"Then let's get searching for him. I'd like to get back to my brother as quickly as possible and see how everyone else is doing in his expert game."

Bowing, the servant paced out of the room, wisely hiding his reluctance to find the teenager, the nervousness only visible in his inability to keep his hands still. As the gloom rose and engulfed them utterly, their steps faded.

* * *

Now was his chance! Quickly, as soon as the elder Kaiba and that servant had vanished entirely from sight and sound, he dashed up to Mokuba and grabbed the boy's hair in a tight grip.

"Ah—hey! Let go!"

Mokuba tried to whirl around, but the hands had his hair in such a tight snarl at the top of his head that he could barely move at all. A low chuckle sounded behind him, and he felt one of the hands tug painfully out of his hair.

"Ring! Now we must take over this new host!"

Something bright flashed behind the vice-president of Kaiba Corporation, and something sharp and cold seemed to be held level with his neck. Thinking of knives, the boy went abruptly still.

"That's better, host. I knew you'd be better than this one I'm inhabiting now. I just hope this works."

The voice sounded suspiciously like Bakura's, but somehow, with a harsher and lower tone. Raspier, even. Beginning to tremble, the young Kaiba tried to keep his thoughts together on how to free himself from this foe.

About to bend lower and twist out of the grip, Mokuba lost his chance. The cord holding the metal implements slipped over his head and instantly, all five tines dug right into the flesh of his chest. (2) (2): From the manga, we see the Ring does this to Bakura when the Spirit gains control.

"Wh-where am I?" came Bakura's voice behind him at the same time as the grasp on his hair released.

Mokuba, however, did not hear him, more involved in what happened _inside_ himself. Something like hands ripped and clutched as his brain. That same low, sinister voice hissed things in there, making Mokuba clutch his head.

_No! My Ring's magic should work on any potential host! Not just my reincarnation!_

The words seemed an obvious protest against the truth, but they made no sense to the boy. All he knew was that his head burned and his brain pounded so hard it would explode.

And Thief-King Bakura felt it, too, and he grew frightened. What exactly would happen to the both of them if he tried to inhabit someone he couldn't?

A red haze came over Mokuba's eyes as the pain reached blistering heights. Some annoying, high-pitched scream echoed in the halls, and he wished they would just be quiet…blood seemed to be dripping over his fingers where they gripped his head. Entire body convulsing, Mokuba never even felt the relentless hard floor catch him cruelly in its grasp, though the thud did stop the screaming for an instant. The pain just went on and on, and even as Bakura bent over in fear and confusion, trying to figure out how to help, Mokuba curled into a ball…the pain went on and on…and everything grew darker, colors burst behind his sight, somewhere he couldn't even see and then…and then—


	24. Twenty Three: Painful Recollections

Chapter Twenty-Three: Painful Recollections

_The psychiatrist isn't helping much. He keeps wanting me to talk about that night, wants me to keep writing in my journal about the events and what I dream and think about. But I hate it. I don't want to remember any more than I have. The little I know is bad enough. Why would I want to remember the exact way everything happened?_

_The police have told me to give it all up. So much time has passed and there are absolutely no hints. But I can't move on from it and yet, I can't relive the night anymore, either._

_I'm not going to write any more in this book of nightmares; living my life is bad enough, so why would I want to live it twice?_

_What my future holds, I do not know. Sometimes, I wish to take the easy way out and just end it all. But I can't do that; that would mean my entire life was a waste and that nothing at all remains for me in the future. And that cannot be true. Not only was my early life full of small joys and hope, my future will not be useless. I will make certain of that. If only this wasn't standing in my way, if only I could leap to three years in the future, it all would be easily evident. I am not one to give up. And even were it the best choice of all, I still wouldn't do it. I wouldn't mind pissing off those who want me dead, for one, but I promised myself long ago that I would go on no matter what and try to make a difference for the kids who face what Mokuba and I did._

_No matter what, Kaiba Lands must be available for all so that _every_one can have fun. Just because I no longer find fun in anything at all is not reason enough to forbid fun for all the others.

* * *

_

A charged silence like clouds in the middle of a thunderstorm overtook the room. Finally, with a tiny sniff and shifting of position, the spell broke.

"Is that when your bro—"

"No. I don't want to talk about it," I replied in a clipped voice, falling stonily silent.

The small room seemed filled with a choking smoke that obscured the memory, choked the breathing, and drifted to pounce and still the heart in my raging, aching chest.

"I told you not to smoke in our meetings."

"I haven't been," the other said, not at all surprised, but I knew he was just schooled to keep it out of his breath.

"I'm going home."

"All right, Mr. Kaiba. I think you've done a lot today. We nearly completed the story of what you knew of…that night. And you haven't been able to do that once since giving the evidence to the police. I'll see you Wednesday."

Briskly climbing to my feet, I didn't cast the doctor a glance as I strode out of his annoying little office, too intent on getting the choking scent of smoke out of my nostrils.

"Fool," I muttered to myself once out on the sidewalk where the sun shone so strongly everything smelled of heat. At least with the sauna stink no smoke could waft its way to me. "You know it isn't even the scent of cigarette smoke. It's some kind of wood smoke and something else far more noxious."

After all, I had certainly gone by enough smokers in my lifetime to recall the exact way the poisonous fumes clung to the nose, tickling the inside higher than even a grubby kid could stick his finger. Gozaburo himself had smoked; I knew what cigars and cigarettes smelled like.

But why was it this stench of smoke would never leave my nostrils?

* * *

The same usual day. Bland. Dull. How could I have been doing this for so long already? How long had it been…?

"What a question. It's been two months and twenty-two days."

"What was that, sir?" My driver looked into the review mirror back at me, eyes as professionally trained as that psychiatrist's. Such eyes showed no judgment, showed no thinking at all, not even any emotion. I was completely sick of it all.

"Nothing."

"Yes, sir."

The black limousine drove on silently.

* * *

Home.

Not exactly. Nothing felt like a "home" to me anymore. Just a mansion, a place I lived. But it didn't mean I enjoyed myself at all.

As usual, my eyes traveled up to the front of the house to the middle windows, the largest ones. I don't know why I bothered, especially after two months and twenty-two days had gone by.

The curtains were shut. No one stood by to watch me arrive, just like no one ever stood there waiting to wave farewell whenever I went anywhere. No one bothered. Not anymore.

Driving up to the main entrance, the chauffeur put the limo in neutral to stop and open the door for me. But I didn't bother sitting around waiting for him to make his stately way over to my door. I jumped out immediately.

Slamming shut my door, he climbed back in and drove off slowly to park. Then, just the mansion doors rested before me, almost breathing like some rancid beast anticipating a new meal. But they had not yet managed to swallow me completely. I always could escape eventually.

What I couldn't escape was the truth. And that enjoyed taunting me continually in my dreams. Really, nothing much had changed in my nightmares from before the two-and-a-half months and after. I still lost sleep every night and awakened in a cold sweat. Even talking to that damned doctor did nothing for me.

"The only one who could help me…" I never allowed myself to finish the sentence. It was useless, anyway.

Tightening my grasp on my briefcase, my other hand grew taut and rudely punched open my front door.

Servants scurried and scuttled to look like they were working. Truthfully, they had probably done most of the required work already and most for the days approaching. How much dust could a place gather when it only had one night to attract it? Even as a place as large as this, with all the workers combined to keep it running smoothly, very few specks remained to give it the chance to fail inspection. Not like anyone cared enough to inspect it.

A tray of food sat waiting for me, as always, without fail. But, as usual, without fail, I ignored it and went straight up to my room after making a phone call that somehow, unbelievably, made my day only worse. Even knowing others felt slightly concerned about me, such as with the tray, did not relieve me of my black mood, though it usually helped a bit. Still, I could never summon much of an appetite anymore. No doubt the food wouldn't go to waste. Someone else would eat it.

School, business, psychiatrist visits: they all led up to a filled day. The police station had highly encouraged me not to come in anymore. They didn't think it helped my emotional state to try to help them find leads that proved impossible to find. But I had found other ways to fill my days. I wouldn't want anything less. It kept my mind mostly preoccupied. Well, except that certain things would never leave my mind.

"It's been two months and twenty-two days. Don't you think it's time to stop counting them?"

But I couldn't.

This room was one the maids didn't frequent as much as the rest of the house. Mainly, the presence of the master hindered it, as I lived within it most of the evening. No visitors were allowed.

Still, everything glistened with lack of the dust that always piled up somewhere else once one removed it. Such small specks, and yet, they never stopped their harassment on anything. Such small specks shouldn't have such an effect on things. It shouldn't be _allowed_.

The bed appeared neatly made with the covers never indicating my thrashings in the night. The bookshelf sat proudly erect on the north wall, the colors of the spines making a rainbow I used to enjoy looking at. Now, they all seemed a mere blur of useless color.

Piled neatly on the edge of my desk near to the computer, my work always rested for when I would return to it. Organization held the key to control, the trick to getting through this all. Preparation, organization, order…that was all I needed.

Going over to my desk and placing my special briefcase down, something else caught my attention. Something that was the antithesis to order and control, preparation and organization, some infiltrator that had crept within and pounced when I least expected it—something that threw off my entire façade.

The face staring back at me from the surface of my briefcase I hated. It looked weak, tired, wore down, and I couldn't stand that. And yet, no time would I take to improve it at all. What did it matter if my eyes rested cozily atop bags or red decorated their rims or veins speckled the white vitreous humor like red sprinkles on frosted cookies? What difference did it make if my pallor shone so pale I would soon pass for an albino in skin tone? What good was the sun touching me with its golden rays? Why was it considered so healthy?

The sun didn't hit everyone.

No doubt, other cheeks were growing pasty and sunken as time wore on, hair disheveled and needing a good wash.

"Is that what you want? To live in the darkness? You can't go that way!" I slammed my fist down on the metal briefcase and release my held breath.

Then, abruptly, I started helplessly laughing. When I finally caught some air, I commented, "You're surely mad. Here you are, talking to yourself and debating things aloud like someone else will answer them. No one will."

And calmed once more, I sat at my desk and opened up some work on my computer. But the vision that had come of a small person resting silently in a deep unreachable place wouldn't leave my eyes no matter how many words and numbers they processed automatically.

Under the ground probably felt cool right now, uncomfortably so. And the bugs would be feasting already. Maybe, the eyes, the lovely gray-violet eyes, gaped as sockets on a visage riddled with holes and sporting a skeletal, eerily-grinning mouth…

"No!" I gasped, bidding the horror to go back to wherever it dwelled when I somehow could rid myself of it.

But the worms only writhed more over the face and roaches crawled through the once-smooth, shiny black hair; his clothes getting thin and tattered; bones protruding through the papery skin; flesh so utterly still and frozen that a heavy step from above might crack a finger free; a putrid smell bubbling and gathering in the small area, growing and struggling to burst free to the surface…

"STOP IT!" I roared, hitting the keyboard with both fists, not even reacting when a bunch of nonsense appeared on the screen before blackening completely.

Someone else's eyes saw only blackness…

"_NO_. Don't think of it. Just let it go, just forget it for now…"

But how could I ever forget it? How I just pretend it didn't happen?

_My brother was dead._


	25. Twenty Four: Pesudo Existence

Chapter Twenty-Four: Pseudo-Existence

"Hey look, it's _Mista_ Kaiba."

I stiffened if it were at all more possible and continued going on my way, wishing they knew when to seriously, completely get lost. The days had been more tolerable when they had been avoiding me and ignoring me.

But, a month back, they, specifically Wheeler and his good friend Tristan, had started giving me hell. As if I didn't live enough of a hell as it was. And I couldn't even figure out why they suddenly started when they did. Then again, I suppose idiots like them needed no concrete reason. My very existence proved irksome enough that they found reason to bother me.

The best defense—besides dragging along security guards and letting them handle the annoyances—involved striding away and ignoring them as I ignored shit on the bottom of my shoe.

Their annoying voices always penetrated the strongest defense, though, for things inevitably led to mention of Mokuba. And once they mentioned his name, they asked to join him.

"Do you think he killed any kids today, Joey?"

"Nah, why bodda? He already killed de best kid around!"

Fists tightening until my knuckles stood out whitely, even whitely for my faded skin, I continued on my way, wishing them to suffer countless pain and torture for eternity.

Once, I glanced over there, as the bunch of them stood in a group with the two laughing young men. Téa's glare rested on me, but for once she didn't strain my patience and ears with some ill-prepared speech. Bakura just looked slightly clueless and surprised, but he would never take any action to do one thing or another. And Yugi…he just stared at me sadly. And that mournful look showed he thought exactly the same as his best friends and just didn't bother speaking the accusations aloud.

I knew the accusations. I'd suffered through them for two months and twenty-three days. When a young boy goes missing on a night after a group of people had just seen him and no trace is left of the boy or what could have possibly happened, things are bound to get tense. Especially if said boy was the vice-president of one of the world's largest gaming companies.

Some days, my hands itched to strangle the necks of those sisters I knew both Joey and Tristan had. Serenity and whatever Tristan's sister was named…if they were dead, would their sadistic jokes stop? Finally, finally they would feel a tithe of what I continued to go through every day. It didn't matter that my brother had not yet been declared legally dead; how long could one be "missing," leaving no clues or leads, and still be hoped alive? I knew it unlikely. I knew it nearly impossible. And yet, I had fallen victim to that damnable hope as much as some other idiot. Maybe, just maybe, Mokuba still lived. And yet, as much as I denied he could be dead, my subconscious and logic enjoyed tormenting me with visions whenever I dropped my guard.

No matter how many days passed—my nightmares, these constant reminders, and mostly, my blank memory ensured I'd never wipe the pain from my life.

And I didn't want to forget Mokuba.

The police advised giving up hope. No evidence thus far had been found of a kidnapping. And if there were…why had they not used Mokuba as a hostage? Why not taunt me at all? Why no leads whatsoever?

The conversation of the phone call I made every day as soon as coming home was a constant tape playing in the back of my head. Every day, the same dialogue continued—everyone knew his lines.

I would call to see if they had any news, any fresh leads or guesses, anything at all to feed the hope that wouldn't die. It didn't matter that they'd call _me_ if they ever had something worthwhile to say. I had to call anyway. But they never did give me any news.

Five out of every ten calls, the conversation would inevitably turn into a debate and even an argument.

"My brother _did not_ run away! So keep searching. Harder!...I don't care if there are no leads or clues. It's your job to find missing people…if you'd work harder, then my brother's prospects of being found wouldn't be going—_it_ _has not been three months!_ TWO MONTHS AND TWENTY-THREE DAYS!"

To cross that line, to admit once and for all that he was never coming back…I wouldn't do it. Not yet. Not until I saw his body's lack of life; not until I knew what bastard had murdered him and had been rightly punished. Not until some sort of memory returned to me to let me know just why I wasn't with my brother protecting him as I should have been that night. Until my own failings were explained—not accepted, but merely explained—I couldn't move on. No matter whether two months and twenty-three days or seven years had passed.

As to running away…I never contemplated it, even though the police always wanted to know whether there existed a reason for my brother to run away. There damn well wasn't. But then…my thoughts always turned to the time in Duelist Kingdom where _I_ had failed to save him, to the nights and days I had been working so long that I hadn't had time for him, to the time before Death-T where I didn't even want anything to do with him, to the days I remained in a sour mood and could have even…hit him.

But Mokuba wouldn't have run away. And without any proof of anything else, it meant someone kidnapped him. It certainly wouldn't have been the first time.

Rocks came skittering after me, but Joey and Tristan somehow knew enough not to truly aim. Plenty of police warnings, security guards bodily hauling them away, and old restraining orders had proven to them it wasn't worth it to truly hurt me physically.

Besides, they knew their words were enough.

* * *

Wednesday arrived sooner than I'd've liked. Every two days I returned to this hellhole, seeking answers that wouldn't surface from the murky depths of my mind. Not even a hand reached up desperately seeking help. Nothing of the night remained to me. Even when I read what the others reported, even when I walked through what I knew—up to a point—that knowledge couldn't help me remember more.

"Just relax. Things like this take time, Mr. Kaiba."

That was what Dr. Tseusaki had said every session. How much damned time would it take? My brother's chances of being found alive were slimming and all that remained was the image of my brother's cold body rotting away in the ground, buried in an unrecognizable place where no one would find it.

The last time I had seen my brother it had been too dark to see his face. I had left to find Wheeler in the haunted mansion set-up. Everything before that was like maids cleaned away my memory, leaving no residue behind at all.

_Why couldn't I remember a fucking thing?_

"Let's start near where we left off last time. You said you were looking for Joey Wheeler. What happened with the rest of that?"

This wasn't where I wanted to be. Leaning back in the chair and closing my eyes, other images came unsought to my troubled mind—images that I could almost remember better than the truth in my past, scenes that never left me alone. But this time, my brother—before any portion of his body had returned to the earth—came unbidden to me. Before the worms had started eating his flesh…this view demonstrated the least I wanted could I not possibly keep my brother, could I not have my purpose and light alive or with me, could I not cherish or say to him the things I needed to …at least I ought to have been allowed to say goodbye to his corpse…

_Touching the amulet that held my picture, I bended over the casket and put one hand on my picture and the other on my brother's too-still hair._

"_Don't take this off, kiddo," I said, my voice choking. "While I can't—can't be with you now, this'll make it seem like—like—like I'm always with you. Remember that, all right, little brother? I'm always with you no matter what…"_

_Even looking as he did now, I expected him to crack a grin and burst out that it had all been a prank, a joke on me. His eyelids still seemed capable of hiding light-filled eyes ready to twinkle in glee, his mouth preparing to quirk into a simple smile, the only smile I ever needed to see._

_But that smile never came. My brother was dead._

"_I'm—sorry, so sorry I couldn't—couldn't save you or protect you. I wish, I really wish our places had been traded, Mokuba. I'm sorry I failed you, little brother. I—I…_love_ you, kiddo. I wish I had told you sooner…"_

Breaking down all alone over my brother's body had been so imbedded in my mind it felt like a memory. And if something like that little daydream could be placed within my head feeling like a potent truth even when it wasn't, I wondered how I had managed to forget everything else that had happened that night. But that was how it was.

"Mr. Kaiba? Mr. Kaiba?" Dr. Tseusaki repeated. "Are you with me?"

Groggily, I sat up straighter and looked over at the man, cursing the foggy vision that overtook him at these meetings.

"Yes, I'm here; where else would I be?" I snapped.

The doctor only smiled at me. Making his fingers into a rigid steeple before him on his desk, something I seriously despised, the doctor focused his dull gray eyes on me.

"Would you like to talk about anything particular?"

I let my glare slip over my face and focus completely on the pleasant man before me. No one had such a right to hold such cheer as this man. He listened to all sorts of woes all day; how could he feign such happiness?

"No, absolutely nothing."

"Is something bothering you today, Mr. Kaiba?"

"My brother's disappearance is always bothering me, _Dr._ Tseusaki. I'd have thought you'd've figured it out by now."

Still, my harsh words brought no change in the psychiatrist. He was imperturbable. It was annoying.

"What did you do today?"

Questions, questions, questions…they never ended. Right then, I couldn't decide which I loathed more potently: the doctor or his endless supply of questions. But I was paying the man from my own pocket and these sessions supposedly helped people, so being of assistance during them might make them more worthwhile.

"I woke up from another nightmare, went to school, went home, came here, and listened to you."

The doctor finally took his gaze off me for a second to write something down as a note. I began to wish I had learned how to read writing as one wrote it.

"Nothing out of the ordinary occurred, Mr. Kaiba?"

"Nothing."

"And nothing happened that revitalized your memory at all?"

I hesitated. Lies and truth had mixed, fumbled and fuzzy in my mind. "Not at all."

"Mr. Kaiba, I'm trying to help you see what is in your past so that you can properly move to the future. If you would try to be a little more willing to discuss things, we might probe your mind and find some hints as to what is being repressed. Otherwise, there are other options we might think of resorting to now."

Taking a sheaf of papers and handing them to me, Dr. Tseusaki turned his voice to the lecturing tone. "This one is called hypnosis, and it's been proven—"

"No."

"Why don't you let me explain, Mr. Kaiba?"

"Absolutely no need to explain. I know what you're referring to. You're indicating, considering it would even work on someone like me, I give my consciousness into your hands to be manipulated by mere hearsay suggestions and try to get absolute truth that way. Do you happen to know people's cases in court have been ruined by the use of hypnosis? It can't be trusted. More often than not, the psychiatrist involved flubs it up and ruins anything substantial. It's the same with any recovered memories—they're rarely trustworthy; more often, they are fantasies concocted from such suggestions! It's like questionnaires; you twist the wording and focus of the sentence so that you get the answers you want no matter what.

"And what makes you think I'm _repressing_ memories? You think I was purposely forgetting what happened that night? You think I'm not trying to remember? Maybe someone knocked me out and _that's _why I can't remember things. "

All during my small tirade, the doctor had been looking at me genially, a small smile on his face. Sometimes, like these times, I thought _he_ was the one in need of mental help. He had fewer emotions than I did.

"I realize that your arguments hold weight and truth, Mr. Kaiba." He seemed to get too much enjoyment out of using my name. It was just as well he never called me by my first name. Names held power, after all, and just hearing him use "Mr. Kaiba" nearly every time he spoke to me seemed awkward and uneasy.

"However, all those stories are about other doctors with other occurrences. There is no court trial for you as of yet. Your memories may make it so there can be one, but otherwise, no evidence has shown a need for one yet. And I would be the presiding doctor. Or any other doctor of your choice. Plus, psychologists have been doing research to create guidelines in order to lessen any wrong sort of influence on the patient and their memories. It was just a suggestion.

"But by the way, you were speaking of suppression, not repression. Suppression is the active will to forget things; repression is having no control over forgetting it. While suppression may lead to repression, it is doubtful that has already happened to you in such a short time."

"Hmph." I was leaving now. I didn't need a lecture on a topic I was well-versed in. So I messed up a few words, what did it matter? Neither referred to me.

"Just think of it before the next time we meet, Mr. Kaiba. Hypnosis isn't the only option. There's guided visualization, suggestion, age regression, and other tactics (1). No matter what, though, I am quite willing to abide by your decision. And maybe you should try to write some more in the journal I suggested." He looked at me without blinking until he turned back to his papers.

"Yeah, sure, whatever," I muttered, getting up to go.

After all, I knew this day would hold nothing more useful to regaining my memory. And I didn't care it was all my fault.

* * *

(1): List of therapies and definition of suppression and regression summary taken from: Coon, Dennis. Introduction to Psychology: Gateways to Mind and Behavior. 10th ed. Australia: Thomson and Wadsworth, 2004. 


	26. Twenty Five: Hypnosis

Chapter Twenty-Five: Hypnosis

Dr. Tseusaki thought I needed hypnosis or some other collection of crap to find any bit of the truth. But if I took that route, no doubt the "truth" would be completely skewed even with the changes in protocol. My brother needed to be found, not just have a cock-and-bull story about him concocted to put an end to it all that wouldn't really be an end.

Still, my options were running out.

Hypnosis. I started researching that mode of awakening memory. Suggestion just sounded like asking me to lie, and guided visualization was a definite negative as well: Seto Kaiba would not spend time idly daydreaming at the behest of his doctor. Age regression…doing that would be a sin and against my nature. I would never do anything so undignified.

So…

That left hypnosis. And even that nearly overstepped my bounds. But desperation opened doorways long abandoned and scorned.

Admittedly, from my research, some of which included the packets the psychiatrist had given me, hypnosis wasn't quite as bad as it had been. The precautions that doctors now followed almost included common sense, and finding common sense in medical world certainly surprised me. Given their history of treatments for any type of malady, I had actually, _occasionally_, allowed myself to look upon this century with a bit of optimism. Technology and improvements to such did that to a person. After all, at least doctors no longer hung patients by their feet to calm them down. Then again, not too long ago, the lobotomy had been the best way to soothe an angry person…

If I were actually considering hypnosis, I knew I must be getting weak.

Staring out the window where clouds threatened rain, the slushy type common in winter, though real snow wasn't expected for another month, I realized what I had secretly known for a long time.

I _was_ weak. Without Mokuba, I was nothing.

* * *

The next morning, I groggily opened my eyes to see the sunlight streaming in. Odd…it had been the first night where I had not been fatigued through a constant barrage of nightmares.

But, amazingly, I had slept in late. The sun beamed into my room, highlighting the reddish streaks in the wooden shelves.

What a strange morning.

The phone rang in my room, startling off the last vestiges of sleep from my eyes and mind. My feet slipped to the floor, and I raced to pick it up. Breathlessly, the receiver at my ear, the voice of the police marshal told me to come to the station.

"We've a lead in the case at last."

Those words entered my ears and nothing else registered. In a flash, hardly recalling to put on less wrinkly clothing (having slept in what I had been wearing the previous day), the limousine waited for me without my having to call it.

Riding to the station took far too long. No way, no conceivable way we'd _ever_ get there. The road seemed to melt away before the road and go on and on, through deserts, and mountains, and forests, and over water…

Amazingly, we did reach the station after an eternity of blasted nerves and new gray hairs. My heart was pounding so hard that it seemed someone had replaced it with a vibrating toy that wouldn't shut off.

Inside the station, the police turned to me with whoops and cheers as I strode into their midst. Glaring around, wanting some information, I swooped down upon the nearest man, demanding to know what was going on. Had they found my brother? What was the lead? What were they doing now?

"Mr. Kaiba, Mr. Kaiba," one said affably and smiling too similarly to that psychiatrist. "Look over here."

He moved to the side along with other officers who had been grinning and waiting to go aside like a curtain. And as my eyes traveled from the men's twinkling eyes down their creaseless uniforms, they alighted on something—some_one_—that they could have gazed at forever without growing weary.

"M-Moku-Mokuba. Mokuba! MOKUBA!"

He ran into my widespread arms, and as I returned the affectionate hug and squeezed him tightly to me, without shame, the tears fell glittering into my brother's soft black hair. Tighter and tighter I hugged him, seeming never to have enough substance to feel like I could let go.

No…

It couldn't be happening. My brother was disintegrating! He wasn't in my arms any longer! He vanished again!

All around me, the walls whirled to blur the policemen and walls into one constant dull shade of gray-brown. Then, screaming my brother's name once more, I woke up from my bed and saw only darkness.

Panting, I tried to grasp the feeling of ecstasy that had enwrapped me upon seeing my brother, but it had all faded, all left me long behind.

"Mokuba, please come home," I whispered to the stillness, the dark utterly complete.

Nightmares or false hopes. I couldn't stand either of them, but I couldn't have chosen which one was worse.

My tormented cry rang once more throughout the mansion: "_Mokuuubaaaaaaaa!"

* * *

_

The real morning dawned with much of its usual harsh clarity. Light crept to my faded window glass, and a headache throbbed with its usual dull intensity behind my eyes as I suffered from complete lack of sleep once more. This, I knew, was no dream. But I damned well wished it were.

Chuckling softly, I murmured, "Can't decide what dreams I'd rather be without, but as to reality, I'd have no problem getting rid of it. Someone must be having a field day planning my life and its irony."

A simple cup of coffee and a glass of water would sustain me for the rest of the morning. My stomach cringed and squirmed away from anything more. For once, I knew what it was like for those pathetic dolts who claimed to be lovesick and unable to eat. But this love was different. Deeper, stronger. Realistic: that was what it was. And that was why a part of my being had been ripped from my soul; without it, how could I function through the daily routines that were so much less important?

The pamphlets and papers about the different options available to retrieve a lost memory shone in their own hopeful light. If these dreams and lack of leads continued…I just might turn to them.

"What I really want to do…what I really need to do…is force the truth out of those who were there." Remembering where the eyewitness account had ended a couple sessions ago, I immediately snapped out, "Bakura was certainly suspicious. Saying he, too, didn't remember things and only awoke to see my brother convulsing."

The collected notes and reports of those present in the haunted mansion that night had been given to me by Dr. Tseusaki in the hopes that if I learned them well enough or studied and thought about them hard enough I'd come to some recollections on my own.

I skimmed the pages until I came to Bakura's report, swiftly rifling through what he mentioned about not exactly knowing what happened at the end of our meeting about school and turning immediately to his description of Mokuba writhing on the floor, clutching his head.

Even now, the words hurt, and I didn't want to have to read them again, even with the knowledge that my brother had not found the end that way and he had not vanished at that time.

Taking a breath, I plunged into the notes on what ensued:

_I didn't know what was going on or where I was. I don't recall at all what happened up to then from the point I left off. Mokuba was screaming. I bent over him, trying to discover what the problem was, but nothing stood out as what was causing him harm. He stopped screaming rather quickly, though, and lay white-faced on the ground. I said his name softly and looked him over, but he was soon stirring. I helped him to his feet. He looked at me in slight confusion, rubbing his head. Then, he turned to the couple workers who had tracked him down in the dark and reassured him he was fine. Mokuba smiled shakily at me and urged me to continue on with the game. I asked what he was going to do and what had happened. He never said what had occurred and just smiled once more and nodded at his workers to accompany him. I did as he requested and resumed the maze. Nothing more of Mokuba did I see that night._

The account proved far too suspicious. Why would Bakura have just let Mokuba walk away claiming he was fine? And how did anyone know Bakura hadn't been doing something and stopped, acting to be helping my brother when the servants arrived? All appeared too calm a tale after such drastic actions, and I resolved to find him.

Looking for the foreign boy immediately after the disappearance had been ill advised by my psychiatrist, and I had actually heeded it right then. Later, when I tried, Bakura had always been with his friends, and with those two idiots claiming me a murderer, not much had been learned.

This time, I felt prepared to force out the answers however I needed to. He had to know something. I knew that. It hadn't been the entire story. And I would learn it soon.

Bakura would talk. Hell, they would all talk. I could be very…persuading.

* * *

The driver halted at the corner of the street, but it wasn't the best parking job he had ever done. Being yelled at and belittled might do that to a person, but I hardly cared about the emotional well-being and self-esteem of my workers right then.

The shop wasn't here.

This had been exactly where Mokuba and I had gone to get that dragon pendant. The rundown shack had been right before where I was standing. Now?

Nothing of value to me whatsoever. Some place to trade bikes stood there now.

Just to make certain there had been no mistake, just to make certain I wasn't going senile along with losing my memory, I walked around the entire area. But the shop that we had gone into wasn't there. Anywhere. And I remembered it being here. A flashbulb memory of what the shop looked like placed it right where my limo had parked.

"What happened to the store that used to be here before you came here?" I asked the manager of the bike shop.

"Excuse me? You must be mistaken. We've been at this present location for nearly thirty-seven years now."

The damned shop was older than I was, but I was the one who felt like I was getting Alzheimer's.

"You're sure?" What an idiotic question. I was losing my mind.

"Yes, sir, I'm sorry. But I'm quite sure we've been here for that long."

Of course they had…how else would they have been so rundown they would fall over with one well-placed kick?

Without another word, I shoved through the door, housing a brief, flitting thought that maybe my strong exit would be the one movement needed to send the building crashing down forever.

"Let's get out of here."

"Back to your estate, sir?" the driver asked nervously, already starting to pull out the instant my command had been barked.

"No. We're going to Moto's." Bakura could most likely be found there. And Yugi himself. Yugi had been the one to mention where the store was. Someone there would give me answers.

* * *

On the drive over, I opened my locket and looked at my brother's youthful, happy face. No one had a right to dim the light in my brother's eyes. I would find out who had taken him away from me and get my answers.

Mokuba would soon be back with me. Two months and twenty-five days later or not, I knew my brother would be found.

No other option existed.


	27. Twenty Six: A Meeting of Suspects

Chapter Twenty-Six: A Meeting of Suspects

Yugi's place…they'd all be there. When weren't they there? The gang was truly a herd of unintelligent beasts that didn't feel safe or right unless surrounded by the idiots of like self. And I, the wolf, would seek out the weakest member to attack first before rounding on the others and feasting…

The shop where Yugi's grandfather Solomon sold a variety of games from all times rose into view. Gliding to a halt, the driver looked back in the mirror for my orders. He straightened outside the car and opened my door; as I passed him, I muttered my instructions.

"Stay here; I'll be back within the hour."

With a nod, the man slammed my door and sat back in the limo. Once there, he unfolded a newspaper and held it in his white-gloved hands. What a simple life he must lead. Then again, what a blessing such a simple life truly was.

After walking through the door, only a limited time passed—twenty-seven seconds—before the old man noted my presence and hurried over.

"Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Kaiba?" he asked with a slight bow.

Staring at him and his wide, expressionless eyes, I wondered if the rumor of how I had _murdered_ my brother had passed to him from Wheeler and the others. Or did he simply pity me and my situation? Or did he simply not care? After all I had done to the man, if he held satisfaction, I would remain unsurprised. Or even if he felt nothing whatsoever to me seemed understandable. I doubted that had Yugi vanished I would have felt much of anything for Solomon beyond an amusement.

"I am going to see Yugi. All you can do for me is prepare him if you wish or simply stand aside."

"Is…Yugi expecting you?" Doubtless, my determination and complete lack of propriety had halted other foolish questions that normally came from these people.

"It doesn't matter. He soon will be if he isn't. But I imagine he's been expecting me for two months and twenty-five days." Dammit, I needed to stop keeping count. But to stop the count was to give up on all hope of my brother returning.

The old man gazed at me, some inscrutable thoughts nearly glimmering in the corner of his large eyes. But if they were truly thoughts, they had to have been in some foreign code, for they made no sense to me whatsoever. Finally, after what seemed another entire day as I waited impatiently for Solomon to reach what I had already decided and known for hours, he slowly nodded and stood aside from the door. Casting him but the briefest glance as I strode by, I wondered if he didn't want to be deemed responsible for letting the devil in the midst of the nerd herd.

Yugi had a mother that I'd glimpsed occasionally, but the woman seemed absent today. Her lack of presence didn't bother me in the slightest; she had been holding a heavy ladle every time I saw her and wielded it expertly like a club. (1) Such actions certainly made me respect her.

Voices drifted from the main sitting room equipped with a small television set and a long couch. The different colored heads seemingly floating above the ground appeared as the only variety in the room, a rainbow of uniqueness and a symphony of colored sounds.

Though my pace never slowed, I noticed that certain more people sat here than I had anticipated. Devlin, another store owner, sat near Tristan, and Joey's younger sister relaxed on the ground next to him. The others I had guessed would be here, and they didn't disappoint me by suddenly going solo. While gaining independence normally seemed a good trait, in these buffoons, had they done anything unexpected, it meant my knowledge was truly worth nothing.

The talking ceased as a variety of eye colors and shapes all glanced up, the majority narrowing and trying to shoot realistic sparks at me. But none of them singed me as I proceeded into the main room and took my stance, glaring back at them.

"Whaddya doin' here, rich boy?" Joey asked, already getting to his feet and clenching his fists.

Téa put a hand on his arm and kept him in place not from strength of body but strength of will. "We don't need a fight here, Joey," she said quietly.

"We need a fight anytime an' anywhere if Kaiba's involved."

Smirking, I couldn't help but realize how much Wheeler still reminded me of a dog. He was even growling now.

"What do you want, Kaiba?" Yugi said abruptly, face unreadable.

The others all kept their gaze on me as I focused in on the short teen. Yugi's large violet eyes seemed to seek answers not only for the question he had asked, but other questions that had existed. Existed for two months and twenty-five days.

"I want to talk to Bakura right now. And later, I'll probably want to interrogate the rest of you."

Eyes wide, Bakura glanced at the others as if someone had just read his name from a list of those to be executed and no one even attempted saving him. No one moved.

"What makes ya dink ya have de right t' get what ya want just by marchin' in here and demandin' dings, huh?" Joey never glanced at his sister, though her big eyes filled up and she clung to one arm.

"Yeah, why should we do anything for _you_, Kaiba?" Tristan asked, my name a curse from the way he sneered it.

Duke looked slightly confused when my glance passed over him to focus on Bakura's frightened features. Standing as I did in the middle of all these seated idiots, I felt like the much-respected teachers at school. Indeed, these friends seemed like a kindergarten class from the way they acted and just how tiny and insignificant they all were, especially in comparison to me and my determination to find answers.

"Bakura," I said again, voice low, "tell me the truth of what happened that night." His gaze focused on mine, and he swallowed.

No one needed to ask which night I was referring to.

"We already gave our reports to the police, Kaiba," Téa said far louder than I had, sapphire eyes narrow. "How many times will you need to hear our stories before you finally accept them for what they are: the truth?"

"I'll hear them as many times as it takes for the real truth to come out."

She glared at me, but there, no competition existed. The day someone out-glared me was the day I would kiss Wheeler. It would never happen.

Bakura finally turned to the others resolutely and nodded. "I'll go; don't worry about me. Maybe Kaiba'll finally understand that we're all telling the truth…that we've all been telling the truth from the very beginning."

Eyes narrowed, I led him out without even a sharp jerk of the head. The others, I knew, were filing our backs as their eyes flicked from one back to the other. At least they all remained silent this time as we walked through the doorway. The narrow hallway hardly held more seclusion—unlike my offices in the mansion or Kaiba Corporation building—but this space seemed better than nothing. Two posters of Duel Monsters, one ripped and nearly falling off the wall, decorated the faded white paint. Standing where I was, the floor creaked once as I stepped down, but once I was firmly planted, not another sound dared to squeak out of it.

Opposite me, Bakura regarded me coolly, arms crossed and eyes half-lidded. This reminded me all too much of that scene in my office when we had been discussing a school project, and instantly, my hands readied themselves for any needed action.

"Ask your questions, Kaiba." His voice was lower, sounding more authoritative and…daring. For the first time, I wondered if the rumors I had heard about him were true—that he had another self like Yugi had. Would this be the other Bakura? "But make them good and I won't have to lie."

Immediately, my hands grabbed his collar and my body pressed him against the wall. But Bakura never reacted. He merely stood there, smirking.

"There'll be no lies, Bakura," I said, staring him in the eye.

He continued to smirk, mouth opening wider as my hands tightened.

"I want the truth."

"Then ask and decide if that's what you are given."

I grit my teeth and hated this pompous, self-serving attitude more than anything ever before. How could I battle against one so similar to myself?

"What—the—hell—happened—that—night—when—my—brother—vanished?" Before he could start spinning off some random answer, I added, "You claimed to have awakened and seen him screaming but had no memory of things before that. I don't believe you. And I don't believe you had nothing to do with the pain my brother experienced."

"Oh, bravo, Kaiba. You have realized I had a role to play. But don't insinuate those other answers were lies. You were simply asking the wrong person."

"I don't buy that crap. Answer me straight, damn you!"

"No need to swear and get so upset. So much easier to toy with you that way, Kaiba, isn't it? Emotions get in the way of everything."

Stiffly, slowly, I straightened and removed my hands from near his neck. I had to regain control of this situation. Questions…I had to ask questions to rid his face of that irritating leer.

"You claimed to have no memory of what you were doing before discovering my brother screaming in pain. What were you doing?"

"What was I doing, Kaiba?" He laughed dryly. "I was searching the maze for the objects your brother requested we find to get free, or weren't you aware of that? And after that, I was following your brother."

"Why, you bastard?"

Chuckling, his dark eyes looked past me like I was an underling and he was some noble king.

"Does that matter to you?"

"Of course it does!" My fingers tensed, hands ready to grip his throat once more, having been of such the perfect size and shape it seemed they belonged there.

"Then I won't tell you. Heh."

The others appeared behind Bakura just when I debated really throttling him once and for all. But after their faces looked at us, a couple ready to join in the near-fray, I withdrew from attacking him and took a ragged breath.

"Tell me why you were following my brother. What were your intentions? Did you follow him afterwards? What exactly did he say to you? Fix your lies!"

The others remained silent, looking at Bakura as well, and the foreign teenager smirked again. "I was seeking your brother to gain something by him, but it proved impossible to obtain, and so I left. The rest you know from the witness report," he relished, obviously deciding enigmas and riddles would bother me even more than no answers at all.

Yugi glanced at me, saying, "Like I said, Mokuba was fine when he found me later. A little shaken perhaps, but nothing major. He was with some of his workers." He looked at me. "And you even found us then. You didn't stay long, but then you left with your brother."

I hadn't known that.

I had found Mokuba after he screamed?

No kind of memory involving that existed in my mind.

* * *

(1): Yugi's mother exists in the manga, and yes, she really smacked Yugi with a ladle, but it was meant to be humorous. 


	28. Twenty Seven: More Questions, No Answers

Chapter Twenty-Seven: More Questions, No Answers

Quickly, so they wouldn't think something strange, I continued, "But how do you know that one"—I jerked my thumb at Bakura—"didn't return and finish his business when my brother and I were separate again?"

"I don't. But I trust him."

"Yeah, well, maybe you shouldn't. Trust doesn't get you anywhere."

"Then I'm afraid that maybe what Joey said makes sense. If trust means nothing, how can we even trust that you had nothing to do with your brother's disappearance?" Hands tightly squeezed at my sides, I whirled around at Yugi's words. But I did not stride away, not yet.

The gang of geeks was never helpful. I couldn't figure out why I bothered at all with the lowing herds. They all thought I had done it, had driven my brother away or had some hand in getting rid of him. If they believed that, obviously, I had been completely flawed to think I should ask them anything involving thought.

But if I weren't involved in some way with what happened and all my servants had gone through lie detector tests and passed, it fell to the gang to know something. Anything at all that would give me a lead.

Somewhere, one of them held some sort of answer in the far-away, seldom reached areas of the mind. I just had to threaten or pry them hard enough to have them in my grasp.

"Um, guys?" This quaking voice sounded more pathetic than Yugi's. "Why don't you just tell him what you know? It's his _brother_ we're talking about here. Why would he ever do anything to hurt Mokuba?"

Wheeler rounded on his sister, and for a moment, I wondered if he had ever hit her. But thinking like that made as much sense as the gang assuming I had killed my brother. At least I had the decency to believe otherwise. Wheeler said, "Don't ya go standin' up for him!"

"She stands up for everyone, man," Tristan muttered, looking no happier about what he said than Joey did.

"Think about it! Kaiba wouldn't do what you claimed no matter what, Joey! Would you ever think of harming me? Hmm? I didn't think so! Then how could you claim it of Kaiba?" She crossed her arms, furrowed brows almost comical on her face.

"He ain't human, sis, so don't bodda tryin' to make dings make sense for him."

"No, I'm beyond human. Or maybe you're so far from human that even were I human it'd be so high above you that you can't recognize it."

An ugly shade of purple-red crossed Wheeler's furious face, but I turned my back to him after appreciating that he had even figured out what I meant (or he naturally assumed everything from my mouth represented an insult, which it did). Instead, I focused on Yugi, my next suspect.

"You claim my brother found you after whatever happened with Bakura," I said, firmly ignoring the scuffling and furious protests behind me. "What exactly happened then?" My attempts to keep secret my lost memory appeared pathetic at best, but I had to know what had happened to my brother.

"I've told you before, but I'll do so again if you really want, even though you were there," Yugi said gently, and that softness of his tone irked me more than Wheeler struggling to attack me in the background. The short punk _pitied_ me.

"I'll let Yami take over, though, because he was the one out during the whole thing."

Oh, wouldn't that just be great? Someone I hated even more than Yugi himself and Wheeler; my one competitor who had ever bested me. Pegasus might have won to me, but that cheap victory never counted, using cards never released or used so I had no chance. But if the other Yugi knew something of my brother, I was willing to suffer through the experience.

The heavy Puzzle dangling—more like weighing down his head as would an anchor—from his neck shone once, and the Yugi before me somehow appeared the same and different. It wasn't that he had changed how he looked. The variable involved his stance—a little straighter, more confident. His violet eyes, when they found mine, weren't filled with pity at all, but a nameless determination and grit that echoed my whole system of living. And that proved why I hated him so: not only had he beaten me fair and square, but he had too much similarity to me.

"You wanted something, Kaiba?" My name on his tongue sounded like a curse.

Smirking, I crossed my arms and leaned back against the wall. Behind me, where I had no vision but had still acutely attuned to what was happening, Wheeler had finally ceased trying to murder me and those around him had released him. So I focused all my attention on the figure before me, one foot holding all his weight as he, too, crossed his arms.

"I want to know what really happened the night my brother vanished."

His smirk mirrored mine. Or maybe mine mirrored his. Surely this spirit, ancient being would have been better to have been mine than Yugi's. But that thought swiftly drained out of my mind. I hardly believed in this magic nonsense.

"Me? Why would I know a thing, Kaiba? You were the last I saw with him."

Something about his face seemed untrustworthy. But then, had I been looking at myself, I wouldn't have trusted my own words.

"Well, what did you notice? Any strange sounds, odd-appearing people, anything out of the ordinary? Or is aiding kidnappers such a common experience for you that everything was completely average?" I added derisively. The other Yugi continued to smirk at me.

"You might learn more if you showed some respect to those you were questioning instead of just rudely making us all seem guilty! It's enough to make me suspect that what Joey says is right; you probably had more with Mokuba's disappearance than _we_ did!" Téa's hands were back in their customary place at her hips; her angry eyes returned to their usual place in life, which involved poring into face as if she could somehow make it more to her liking with enough pep talks and glares.

"Don't you _dare_ say that! Don't even say his name!"

Never should I have come here. No matter that I hadn't even gotten to asking about the vanishing shop; I wouldn't bother asking that now. These people may have hidden answers somewhere with them, but to dig them out required so much pain…far better it would be for me to try the repression therapy. Far less demeaning than going to my enemies for aid, anyway. Today I had merely given them satisfaction.

The Seto Kaiba that people had known and feared continued to slip away a little more each moment that Mokuba remained gone.

Whirling, coat flapping behind me nearly in its own breeze, I advanced to the door.

"No way any kidnappas woulda got in dere, Kaiba, unless yer security was lackin'. No madda what, even if ya claim dat he was kidnapped, somehow, it's all yer fault."

And even as the others shushed him and I left them behind, his words never left my soul, for such words I knew well already. Those words whispered to me in the darkness of night when I woke up screaming from another pleasant dream that again ripped itself free from my reality.

No matter what, it was all my fault.

* * *

Dr. Tseusaki appeared too happy to see me. My mood instantly worsened. Most times, if others seemed happy, it spread like contagion. Always, the opposite seemed true for me. Only when everyone else was properly bitter and resentful of things could I show any easy glee. 

"I'm so glad you decided to seek answers this way. You read through the packet? Do you have any questions?"

"You would be. Yes. No."

The doctor looked at me until he realized how I had answered, and then the customary smile showed once more on his face. "Have you decided on a doctor or wish to be given data on those available to do the therapy?"

Trifles…a bunch of crap. I wanted to cut to the chase and just have my answers instead of circling around answering pointless questions that meant little in the long run.

"You can. And let's get it started."

"You wish to do it today?"

Grunting, I sat back farther in my chair. What kind of moron was this psychiatrist? Did psychiatry only require vomited answers and little else? Surely, I wouldn't want a man like this doling out my medication.

"Obviously I want to do it today considering I just said so. Why else would I bother wasting my voice if I said something deplorably useless?"

Without another comment, Dr. Tseusaki leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his cruelly short strands. In fact, they protruded so little his hand found it impossible to run through his hair. Most likely, he had just been feeling the top of the stiff bristles. Mokuba would have had something to say about that.

His eyes scanned the packets giving the doctor permission to send me through painstakingly embarrassing exercises to get back something that had had no right to wholly abandon me. Finally, he finished checking over everything so he could not be sued later as he no doubt rightly feared. Then, the psychiatrist folded his hands and looked at me, eyes not the least bit narrowed. At last, he rose.

"Very well, Mr. Kaiba. If you would follow me."

So, they did these torture sessions in different rooms. I paced after my doctor, aware that it seemed I truly led simply because the man walked with a mincing crawl that begged, "Please, let me suck up to you." Mainly, I felt surprised he didn't slither on the ground in an attempt to move without a backbone, considering the man didn't have one.

The room he opened didn't have the padded walls, floor, and ceiling I expected. Instead, a soothing blue wallpaper and a comfortable chair for both doctor and patient rested within. Obviously, Tseusaki thought we'd be here for a long time finding answers.

"Take a seat, Mr. Kaiba." He gestured to both the chairs and only settled himself in one after I chose the one nearest to me. He held his clipboard with plenty of paper, and I wondered how many notes my mind would reward him with.

"Okay, there are different ways to do this, but the standard way is probably best. I just want you to relax in your chair and open your mind. Stay awake, and yet, let your consciousness drift away slowly." His voice took on a maddeningly soothing sound, trying to be convincing and like cool water running smoothly over stones; yet, the sound annoyed me so much I couldn't do as he asked.

As I shifted position, listening to him advising me quietly how to breathe deeply, the weight of my locket necklace banished all the sarcasm and disgust from my mind. Instead, I focused completely on how desperately I wanted to know where he was and what happened, when he'd be back and how he fared, and if he hated me or if he'd forgive me for my lapse in security…

Focusing on letting my attention drift, the usual horrors that lived behind my eyelids I thrust away in my determination to make this work, to finally discover some sort of truth.

"Breathe in…breathe out…let the room fade away from you and relax. Your limbs should feel heavy. Everything is completely relaxed…"

At least there was none of that pathetic "Let your eyes follow the swinging pendulum…you are getting very sleepy" nonsense. So, things could have been worse.

My body began responding to what Tseusaki said. Or maybe the feeling of resting beneath a pile of sand came from having been so long tense. Relaxing… this new feeling felt foreign—almost spell-like. Leaden weights rested on my limbs and even my heartbeat turned sluggish and seemed to be saving up its energy for a later date. As my breaths turned deeper and I felt asleep but awake at the same time, the doctor's voice came at me from a distance as through a fog.

The questioning and visualizing to help retrieve my faded memory began.


	29. Twenty Eight: Memories

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Memories

"You are walking through the darkness of your mansion's basement. Tell me what you see."

_The blackness is absolute. No light shines through to reflect in my eyes. Mokuba is nearby, telling a ghost story. A story about a dragon pendant I bought him for his birthday. There was a ghost story behind it._

"Oh? Tell me about this dragon pendant. You've never mentioned it before now, not even on the report."

_This pendant has such strange eyes…they change color and sometimes seem to glow. Mokuba wanted it with a complete determination and desperation he sometimes gets, and because this was a gift in apology for being gone on his birthday after I promised to be there, I couldn't resist. He thought I'd like that it was a curling dragon, but it always seemed to be aware, somehow. Like it was watching us and biding its time._

"It was merely a necklace, Mr. Kaiba. Surely it didn't hold such powers."

_It'd almost made me hit my brother! It truly lives up to the curse. _It's_ the reason my brother vanished…_

"…Okay. All right. So what did you do next after hearing your brother telling that story?"

_A light came on; the nerd herd was discussing details of the story. Then Mokuba changed the topic to something else—his haunted mansion game. I reached them in time to hear him explain the rules of needing five cards to get out of the place. These cards were secreted in places in the maze that had once been our basement._

_Everyone started off. I waited with Mokuba in the beginning place and we entered the area together. He wanted to know how his friends were doing in his game._

"Explain more about the setup of the basement."

_Mokuba had made it extremely realistic and apt to last awhile. Servants had been assigned roles, some to jump out and scare people, others dressed up to make appearances. Plenty of objects had been placed all over to invoke horror, like a mechanical spider and coffin. In various places, cards had been hidden that took guts to get. Mokuba showed me where one had been—in the mouth of a very realistic, even moving, were-beast. A person had to reach a hand between the teeth and risk getting bitten to get that card._

"Now explain exactly where you went with your brother and who you saw, what you did, and everything else, step-by-step."

_After entering the maze, I told my brother how proud I was of what he made. With our flashlight, we kept going through the place. He was slightly worried, thinking it may have been too hard for his friends, so we walked to see how they were all doing._

_I noticed that a lot of the decorations and things in the maze were objects I had created before in order to use in amusement parks, but had been rejected for some reason or another. My brother used them well and fit them into the spooky theme. _

_Mokuba heard a noise and was going to see who had made it, but one of our butlers came up from behind and reported that one of the cards had been taken. It was one from a mechanical spider._

_We went first to see if some music was working. Mokuba had ordered it specially from America, some type of Halloween music._

_After that, we went to various rooms and areas to check on how everything was doing. At least four rooms were yet untouched, the cards intact._

_Then we came across the mechanical spider, but as we had known, it had been defeated by someone in the maze. Mokuba was slightly disappointed, but he hadn't wanted all his friends to fail utterly, so he wasn't too upset._

_In fact, we started bantering about made-up words and then whether or not he had been working for me or just receiving an allowance. It was all just part of our usual conversations that we'd have on any given day._

"No ill will towards each other?"

_No! We both knew we were teasing, and we weren't bothered by it. My brother was in one of the best moods he could be, and to be honest, so was I. Never had I been so proud of him than I had been at that moment._

_The servant found us after that._

_He claimed he had been attacked, and I left with him to find Wheeler and remind him that this was all a game. Mokuba was left to continue his search of the maze to check on how his friends were doing._

…_That was the last time I saw my brother. That's the last I remember._

"What about hunting for Wheeler?"

_Oh, I went into a medieval-like room and looked around, but I never found him there. Just something wet that had dried on a skin rug. The servant I was with was still nervous, but he stayed with me as we went hunting for Wheeler._

_That's all I remember._

"No, it's not. Your brother screamed. Did you hear him?"

…

…_Yes…yes, I did. It echoed down the corridors, through both fake and real walls._

"What did you do when you heard that, Mr. Kaiba?"

_I—I…_

"Just take the time, think it through."

…

_I tried to find him. The walls went flashing by, the servant left behind. It was my brother's scream. I'd know it anywhere. And when it went silent, I feared terrible things. Wheeler attacking another person was what I first thought, but when Mokuba went silent like he did, I worried that something even more brutal had happened._

_The maze was too confusing for me, though. After my brother went silent, I had little chance of finding them. But I wouldn't give up. I called his name every once in awhile, fearing he was unconscious or even…dead. In the dark, when one is desperate, one's mind fills with nightmares much more easily._

_I couldn't say how long I stumbled around the area, but I eventually found a room shining dimly ahead, and I could make out two figures there. One was short, roughly my brother's size. Even with my hopes raised and from the distance in the dim light, I was certain it was he._

_The other figure wasn't too much higher, and I would have recognized that hair anywhere. It was Yugi. They were talking._

"Did you hear the conversation at all?"

_Yes. Yugi was questioning whether that scream had been real, and my brother admitted it had been him. But Mokuba said he must have had some sort of hallucination or something. Everything was just fine now. Still, he grimaced once and put a hand on his chest as if it pained him, but Yugi didn't seem to realize it._

_By that time, I was approaching swiftly, and I made no attempt to conceal my sounds. Both turned toward me and Mokuba smiled._

"_I'm just fine, big brother!" he claimed despite my worried questions. "The servants came as soon as I screamed, and they'll tell you, I'm not injured!"_

_I brought the attention to his chest grimly. After a little pressure, Mokuba admitted it pained him, but there was nothing there. Wait…_

"_Was_ something there, Mr. Kaiba?"

_He…he-he was trying to hide it. Something was there, but it was higher than where he lifted his shirt. I saw a dark spot on his skin from at the very edge of where he had lifted the garment. And when Mokuba replaced his shirt, I noticed it lined up perfectly with where he usually wore the dragon pendant._

_It was a burn mark, a scorch._

_That damned pendant was making the curse come true! It was slowly eating my brother! It had to be why he was injured. The pendant, the dragon pendant! It was that thing that had destroyed my brother…the curse was awakened once more and it has to be why my brother is gone!_

"Mr. Kaiba, stay focused on your memory. What happened with your brother after that? Where did you go?"

_Someone must have taken him away after we left Yugi, after I heard a strange voice and then saw nothing but blackness…_

"You were _attacked_ after leaving Yugi?"

_Someone knocked me out and took my brother. Right as it happened…I realized I had failed. That necklace of my brother's, of course someone would go after it! It had been bothering _me_ forever. It was the reason I had nearly hit my brother once. As soon as my eyes broke contact with it, I had been myself again._

_That talisman had been making its move since we first brought it home._

_Someone was probably attacking my brother because they, too, had fallen under the charm of it …it could have been anyone in our basement. That necklace could make anyone act strange._

"The dragon pendant?"

_No…not the dragon pendant. There was no dragon pendant._

_The necklace Yugi gave my brother._

"Slow down, Mr. Kaiba. No dragon pendant? But you said you gave it to your brother. And now you say Yugi gave something to your brother?"

_Yes…it was another pendant like the Millennium Puzzle. Before I reached them, I saw Yugi point at the necklace that my brother was wearing. And Mokuba was really excited when he looked down at it, though he'd had it for longer than just then. It was something he'd wanted for a long time. But I never gave it to him. I never gave him any necklace._

_Yugi had said, "Mokuba, I'm so glad to see you wearing that gift I gave to you."_

_My brother said in return, "Are you joking? I've been wanting something like this forever! It's my favorite object!"_

_It was a pyramid-like amulet, smaller than Yugi's, and yet…I had never known my brother had wanted it. Mokuba never told me about it. Still, it was inevitable that I saw him wearing it after Yugi had given it to him, yet, whenever I asked him about it, he never replied to my questions. So here, at last, I learned who had given him the necklace. When I reached them, he had hidden it back under his shirt where he usually wore it. The card locket was out in front._

"Mr. Kaiba, tell me once more exactly what happened after leaving Yugi. What did you hear? What did you notice?"

_Footsteps behind me…a low chuckle…blackness swirling—we were around dry ice…nothing more after that._

_Absolutely nothing. I was sitting in the darkness, waiting for something. But I don't know what._

_The next thing I recall is being in the main starting point of the maze with Yugi and the others with me. They had opened the door with their cards, but everyone was asking where Mokuba had gone to. Even the servants were looking for him._

_Everyone started trying to find him in the maze, flashlights distributed, people working to get the real lights back on. But nothing of my brother did we find. Nothing at all. Some of the maggots seemed to have gotten out of their place and were wriggling on the ground, nearly all of the rooms had their cards removed, a few paintings were disheveled like they had been rearranged, the fire had gone out, the scary music's tape had run out, and the stuffed were-creature had been destroyed._

_That was it. Nothing of my brother around at all._

"Are you sure that's all you remember?"

_No more! I don't know any more! Just blackness! AAAAAHHHHHH!_

"Mr. Kaiba! Are you all right? Can you hear me?"

"Oh, good! Here, help hold him down, tightly. Don't let him move. Mr. Kaiba, I'm going to get you out of this trance—nothing like this has never happened before. Calm down. Stop trying to stand, Mr. Kaiba! When I count to three, you will open your eyes and be back in the psychiatrist's office. One…two…"


	30. 29: When You Give a Man His Memory

Chapter Twenty-Nine: When You Give a Man His Memory…

A trance like he had never seen it. So Dr. Tseusaki claimed when I came back to myself. He hadn't even reached "three" yet, but I had come out of the hypnotic state. And I had acted more riled up than most people ever become. Usually, the participants' limbs feel heavy and they do movement only on suggestion. But I had struggled to get up and do…something.

"It doesn't matter," I muttered. "I have what I needed." The doctor had handed over all that I said, and when I relearned what I had remembered minutes ago (odd to contemplate), I knew some of the places I had to go.

First, I noted all the things down in my journal, which had, despite myself, grown somewhat into a habit. It organized my mind, at least, and now that my brother was gone, using his gift for something, _anything_, felt more right.

The dry ice. Maybe that explained why I constantly saw foggy smoke. But dry ice didn't usually smell like wood smoke.

After all I had noted all the new information, I started choosing which place I needed to go next. No question about that existed. I had to go to Yugi's again.

I had blacked out. Someone had removed me from the picture out first, which probably explained why my memory had gone. And after that, Mokuba was gone. And who had been close enough to do something like that to me? Who had been manipulating my brother long before? And Yugi was the only one who had, naturally, a weapon to use to knock me out. Large golden Puzzles worked well for that.

* * *

At the gaming shop, my driver pulled to a smooth halt, but I didn't wait for the complete stop. As soon as I could jump out without unnecessary risks, I burst out and yanked open the front door, bells ringing wildly. 

"Don't even ask," I said as the older man opened his mouth. Mr. Moto gaped at me as I hastened by, knowing exactly whose countenance I wanted to see in the living room area of the shop and house.

"What makes you think you can just barge into my house without even an explanation? Hey!" Solomon didn't bother following me, however.

My feet came to a sudden halt when I reached the doorway I stood at before, and utterly frozen, their stillness belied how quickly my eyes swept through the room. _Empty?_ Lips curled in a sneering snarl, I whirled around to check every room in the hellhole. They had to be somewhere here. The losers never had anything worthwhile to do besides sit around and wait for others having more important schedules and lives to interrupt them. Why weren't they here?

Finally, as my hand automatically knocked on the door to Yugi's room, simply because I was thrusting it open and the force made the hollow _thunk_, evidence confronted me: Yugi called out.

"Huh? What do you want? _Kaiba_?"

"Yugi," I replied automatically, slightly taken aback, enough to stop moving. Then, my body resumed with its rigor. "Where are all your little friends? They have something better to do than be here just waiting to taunt me?"

Yugi ceased trying to write on a sheet of paper and turned his entire attention to me. "The gang was all here a little while ago. But they went home to work on their schoolwork. For once," he added with a small grin. The smile faltered, however, as he continued looking at me. "Why? What's the problem, Kaiba?"

"Everything!" I said darkly, focusing intently on him. "My brother has been gone for two months and twe—for almost three months. And you've been hiding things from me for a long time!"

"Huh? What are you talking about, Kaiba?"

"Don't toy with me! Curse you, tell me why you gave my brother that gift! And where were you when I was knocked out that night? Something smooth connected with my head, and I had just left you!"

Yugi shook his head in disbelief, eyes wide, when a light flickered below my eyesight. The eyes changed their wide-eyed stare and narrowed. Now, the other Yugi was glaring at me.

"Unhand me, Kaiba. And rein in your anger. Yugi honestly doesn't know what you're talking about. _I_ was the one who gave your brother that gift."

Slowly, unaware I had grabbed Yugi's collar, I released him, muttering more curses and debating how best to continue. I never wanted the other Yugi to see me like this. Yami took over deciding how to continue for me.

"Now, what do you want?"

"Answers!" I snarled immediately, pacing three feet away from him. "You gave him a necklace, some pendant that night he vanished! You admitted it! What's the story behind that?"

The other Yugi smirked. "It was just a birthday gift, Kaiba. Can't a friend give another friend a gift?" He leaned back against the wall in his customary pose.

My hands clenched and unclenched as I walked back and forth. "It was a miniature of your puzzle! Why would my brother want something like that?"

"I told you; we were friends."

Scowling, I stopped pacing. "Use the present tense. My brother will be found—and quicker if you'd just cooperate."

"Believe whatever you want. But don't insinuate I'm not cooperating. I'll cooperate more than you want. I'll tell you things you never wanted to know." He crossed his legs, resting his weight completely on his left.

My eyes froze on his smug, serious face.

Then, my mouth spilled the words I forever regretted: "What do you mean?"

"You haven't heard this? You lost your memory? Of course you would have…I'd expect it of weak-willed souls like yourself, unable to deal with the truth of your own actions."

I forced myself to take a deep breath. Keeping my hand from lashing out proved harder, but I managed. "Stop criticizing me, you bastard, and just spit it out already!"

Solomon moved downstairs, and both of us went quiet until the steps faded. Then, the other Yugi continued, "Very well. You claim your brother had no reason to run away. Are you so sure? After all, being abused by a brother would seem reason enough to me."

Breathing seemed difficult, my lungs collapsing and throat constricting, but even so, I'd never moved as fast as I did then. And yet, somehow, he moved just as fast, expecting my lethal blows to rain down on him. When he reached the wall, he swiveled to face me.

Raising the Millennium Puzzle, he asked, "Want to suffer another Penalty Game? Then stay where you are and calm down! I told you this was something you wouldn't want to hear."

"Lies!" I growled a sigh, hating the trembling that set in my bones at the mention of another Penalty Game. "You're right. Why would I want to listen to lies?"

"Maybe you won't listen or believe me, but wouldn't you trust your brother?"

"What?" My mind reached a sudden possibility, and I grabbed at it. "You have him here! Where—"

"Calm down," Yami said, glaring. "I never said Mokuba was here. And I can't say where he is now. So stop believing me guilty. All I can tell you is what Mokuba _confided_ in me. Me and Yugi. He was our friend, Kaiba. And he told us about how you hit him one day. Right on the chest."

What was he talking about? I'd _never_ hurt my brother. Never!

"You must be completely demented, Yugi. I never hit my brother. One day, I admit, I came _close_, but I stopped myself in time. It was just some dragon pendant messing with my mind." That last line didn't seem as strong as it usually did to me. Instead of being completely strong and infallible, it was the wrong note in the composition that set the rest in an ugly jangle that made a listener uneasy. I remembered the hypnosis where I admitted no dragon pendant existed. But I could see it…

"A dragon pendant?" Yami scoffed. "I've never seen this dragon pendant before. Why don't you tell me what it looks like?"

If Yami refused to believe me, my mind turned against the truth revealed in the hypnosis; no way that punk was right and I was wrong. "Never seen it? My brother wore it all the time! Shows what kind of friend you were if you don't even know what he never took off. And you were the one who told him where to find it." Except that shop no longer existed, I added in my head, feeling a terrible headache welling up between my ears. Everything around me crumbled in a black and red whirl. But I refused to bow to it.

Yami crossed his arms and glanced at the wooden floor. Finally, frowning, he said, "I never told Mokuba where to go for anything. And I certainly don't ever remember seeing Mokuba wear anything besides his card locket. The only thing even close to what you're talking about is the gift I gave him the night he—disappeared."

Disliking how obvious it was that Yami still believed my brother beyond rescue, I tried to stop my mind from spinning out of control. Everything I knew or thought I knew was being displaced and what was real and what was fantasy was getting lost. Like a swirling maelstrom, everything combined and blurred, fact and fiction one and the other. Was Yami just toying with me, appreciating how uncomfortable I felt and unstable? Did he like to see people questioning themselves?

"Stop messing with my mind, Yugi! Just prove to me, somehow, that it wasn't your neck-dangle that knocked me unconscious and…and your aid to the kidnappers in taking away my brother!"

"I don't have to prove anything to you, Kaiba. You're the one who should be proving your innocence. Tell me why I should believe you're innocent when I heard you and your brother arguing as you left me, when I saw the bruise you left on him, when I saw the fear in his eyes when he looked at you in your anger. Tell me something to make me believe you could possibly be innocent of the reason your brother has been gone for nearly three months." The line of his mouth grew so thin it nearly vanished from his face.

I had argued with Mokuba after leaving Yugi? A real fight, not some playful banter? At the mention of the argument, my pounding head seemed to do so harder and echo the strains of a past conversation…

"_What was that Yugi gave you?"_

"…_Nothing."_

"_Nothing? You looked really excited to have it, and I heard you saying it was something you really wanted."_

"…"

"_You really wanted it and you'd never even _told_ me about it?"_

"_You wouldn't've cared."_

"_You never gave me the chance to care."_

"_It isn't something you'd be pleased to give me, anyway. It's too close to that 'mumbo-jumbo nonsense' you're always talking about!"_

No…surely I hadn't been arguing with my brother over such a foolish fact. I had just found him alive and well; how could I suddenly turn so critical? But even so, I wouldn't have hurt him. Not that far.

When I looked again around the room, it was Yugi who stood here, asking if I had learned anything from the Spirit of the Puzzle.

"Not enough."

"If it's answers you seek, there are a couple who could give them to you, Kaiba." As my shaken eyes returned to Yugi's face, a faint trembling and chill entrapped my bones. He felt _sorry_ for me. "I suppose you wouldn't want to ask Pegasus to see if he would help you. But Shadi, he could enter your soul and tell you the truth." Yugi spoke as if these sorts of ordeals happened as often as people jaywalked.

"Shadi? Who the hell is that? And what kind of goose chase are you leading me on? Just tell me the answers yourself!"

He shook his head, gaze concerned. "I don't know anything more than what I've said. Shadi is the one able to read souls. He is the one you must seek out. But how to find him, I know little of. No doubt, if you started gathering Millennium Items, he'd come find you, as he is the moderator of them." He muttered something that sounded like "Bakura," but I did not pay attention.

Me? Collect the heavy pieces of gold that made such a bad fashion statement?

"Or…" Yugi seemed to have just remembered something as he dug around in a bag. "I have this." He held out something flittering in the light.

Ishizu's necklace. The one that had caused me so many headaches during my tournament. I glared at it.

"This, too, may help you find answers. I'll loan it to you in the hopes it will give you answers or Shadi will come calling to learn why you have it."

I turned my back to Yugi and crossed my arms, heaving a sigh. My eyes focused on the chipped wood of Yugi's bedroom door. "Great…I must be losing my mind. This necklace will either help me see things I don't believe in or it'll bring some guardian down on me in a rage."

"Believe it or not, Kaiba. But if you want to know what happened to your brother, these are the only ways I can think of." He saw me turn to glare at him and added, "What else happened once you and your brother left Yami is buried somewhere in _your_ mind or your brother's, not mine."

Taking the Millennium Necklace with one last ugly glance toward it, I stared at Yugi. He stood there in his awkward stance, arms hanging loosely, and eyes very concerned and pitying. Yet he had tried to help me. And so had that blasted Spirit of the Puzzle. That annoyed me far more than his out-dueling me in a fair competition.

With a last nod, I breezed out of his room and out of the store, ignoring whatever Solomon called after me. My limousine pulled away from the store, and this time, we could go back to the mansion. Not home, but the mansion. During the entire car ride, I replayed what transpired in the room and struggled to hold on to the facts that always seemed to slip from my mind.

No matter what, it seemed whenever I sought answers, I simply found more enigmas.


	31. Thirty: Blurred Reality

Chapter Thirty: Blurred Reality

_My brother has been acting really strange lately. He gets mad so easily, and so I tried to avoid him a lot recently. Maybe he's just really busy. _

_I hope everything gets better soon. Or maybe I should try to help snap him out of it. I don't know if I dare, though.

* * *

_

What reason did Yami or Yugi have to lie to me? Only if they were hiding something…but what could they be hiding? That they knew something more? That they had helped my brother be kidnapped? It didn't seem like something Yugi would do. And how would it have been managed, anyway? All my guards had passed the lie detector test and confirmed that no one had gotten in as far as they knew.

Could someone have broken in anyway? Was my security that faulty?

All these questions had been echoing in my mind for two months and twenty-six days. Yet, right then, it grew too confusing for me.

What was real and what wasn't? Everything befuddled in my mind. Even with the journal keeping track of all I learned, I couldn't differentiate between a real memory and a false one. One part was certain: I didn't trust what I reported to the police; I didn't trust _myself_. Sure, some of the facts had been right. But there didn't seem to be a dragon. Most utterly seriously, no dragon pendant existed. No shop, no Yugi telling Mokuba where the shop was, no necklace around my brother's neck. And my "memories" dwelled around that.

The Millennium Necklace appeared more hopeful to me as I traveled up my room in the mansion after returning from the Yugi's house. Whoever the Shadi character was, he sounded shady, and I didn't want to deal with him. But then, Ishizu's necklace…I hated this thing.

Hypnotism or hocus-pocus magic?

I detested them both, and both seemed the only way I could find any answers at all.

* * *

Waiting around for answers wasn't something I was adept at. Instead of sitting there trying to force answers and bothersome visions from the Millennium Necklace, instead of waiting for some strange personage to appear and no doubt confront me, wanting me suffer, I left the mansion and sought out solitude.

All my life, growing up in Domino City and working in the middle of tall skyscrapers, I found my rest in the midst of the crowded streets. Headlights down below assured me that everything was all right in the world. Safety and proof of some sort of intelligence dwelled wherever the lights from a city shone out into the sky, forcing the darkness back. The attitudes of those around me rushed to do work, and if people could work, the world could not have completely failed. The rushing people proved that life went on no matter what. Even in the midst of my own woes, someone else might find some happiness.

That mindset remained why I continued working ever since my brother had vanished. That mindset had defined the point of Kaiba Lands for those less fortunate.

But now, it seemed that wasn't enough.

With the return of part of my memory, everything I believed crumbled like some wizened, dried-up plant whose flakes blew away on the wind. Certainty, illusion, memory, and even logic had all grown to a snarled mess in my mind that would take days to comb out. Still, such knots wouldn't be untied in the midst of crowded, busy city where I avoided problems.

So late, my driver slept. And I wanted to drive, anyway. Doing something to take my mind from the problem for a little while would be best, especially considering I planned to go someplace where I could think on matters for an indefinite time. However long it took, I planned on staying until some sense rose out of the murky depths of my brain.

The streetlights passed by me one by one, the circle of their glowing beams reminding me of flashlights in the darkness. Silence in the car I drove seemed so profound and deep that I was locked far under the ground. Thinking that naturally led me to visualize my brother once more. My brother eaten by the worms, roaches, and other crawling things of the soil that had the task least thanked: that of decomposing what once lived, what was once so dear and close to another person.

Fortunately, 2:30 in the morning meant fewer drivers. So, although I traveled down a highway much frequented, no one suffered as I swerved in my unsteady state. Shaking, I came to a halt, focusing on the line of lights instead of the oppressive darkness, instead of the guilt that washed over me, smelling of wood and looking like smoke.

The car was a shuddering beast, a horse who had just been calmed from a frantic gallop, quivering and snorting, trying to catch its breath. Maybe me driving myself wasn't the best idea I had ever had.

Slowly, my heart slowed in its pounding and the horrors passed from my eyes as I struggled to focus only on what appeared directly before me. The smoke cleared from my sight, and slowly, as I returned to control, I pulled the car off from the side of the road and started moving again.

The midnight hill sheltered a plethora of night voices and sounds. A carousel out at night, but a different kind than in the city. Various moving creatures scuffled in the thin undergrowth, and the wind took over from them to keep the scraping branches chiming. A distant owl hooted lowly, and some other shriek in the night I couldn't identify echoed after it. As the frosty ground crunched under my feet and I left a warmed trail through the tiny amount of snow (more like frost), my steps added to the din in the typical country night.

Breath warming my nose as I continued with a steady plod up the hillside steps to the vantage point maintained by the city, thoughts of the car below left me. Instead, all the clattering thoughts within me that I tried to hold back most of the day seized control.

My brother had been missing for nearly three months…how much hope could I still have for him? Everything more I learned of that night left me no more answers.

The conversation that I had so recently recalled again came to the surface of my mind. This time, as I played it through, more added to it like I only needed the serenity of this area to draw it forth with its seductive night sounds.

"_What was that Yugi gave you?"_

"…_Nothing."_

"_Nothing? You looked really excited to have it, and I heard you saying it was something you really wanted."_

"…"

"_You really wanted it and you'd never even _told_ me about it?"_

"_You wouldn't've cared."_

"_You never gave me the chance to care."_

"_It isn't something you'd be pleased to give me, anyway. It's too close to that 'mumbo-jumbo nonsense' you're always talking about!"_

"_Then why would you want it?"_

"_Don't you get it, Seto? _You_ may not like that stuff, but _I_ do! Apparently, I know you better than you know me. And even _Yugi_ knows me better than you do!"_

"_Oh, Yugi knows you better, does he? Was it Yugi who has lived with you all your life? Was it Yugi who protected you from bullies at the orphanage? Yugi who got you out of the orphanage and into a better life?"_

"_Better life? I _hated_ Gozaburo!"_

"_Was it Yugi who defeated Gozaburo? Yugi who took over the company and switched it to gaming? Was it Yugi who invented Kaiba Land!"_

"_It was Yugi who saved me from your 'Experience of Death!' It was Yugi who saved me at Duelist Kingdom! He saved me when _you couldn't_. He saved me when you _locked_ me away to go insane! Yugi has done plenty for me! He's—"_

Shuddering, I snapped out of the memories, losing them once more as suddenly as they had arrived.

Surely that wasn't true. Surely another of those false memories that had the tendency to rise up from suggestion had done so. Surely my brother had never told me that. But what my brother had said in those memories was perfectly true. His saying such things would have made perfect sense.

I had locked Mokuba away and was going to make him go insane. I had done it of my own volition. And Yugi had saved him from that. (1)

And though I had tried so hard, so desperately to save Mokuba from where Pegasus imprisoned him, I had not. The duel against Yugi I may have won, but that mattered little when in the next duel, in the duel that _counted_, the duel I did to gain back my brother, I had lost. Pegasus simply added my soul to his collection.

What kind of brother_ had_ I been? Why did I refuse to contemplate Mokuba running away? From all these truths I knew to be set in steel, my brother had reasons over and over to run away and try to find a better life.

No wonder my brother had never run to me at the end of the nightmare on Pegasus's island. No wonder Mokuba had been overjoyed to see Yugi instead and hugged _Yugi_ for rescuing him. No wonder my heart never seemed to be whole. (2)

* * *

(1): Again, manga reference to exactly what it says: once Mokuba lost to Yami in a game of Capsule Monster Chess, Kaiba turned the Experience of Death (guaranteed to drive a person insane in minutes) on his younger brother.

(2): Yes, note this is different, for my purpose, than what happened in the anime and manga.


	32. Thirty One: Crazy Egyptians

Chapter Thirty-One: Crazy Egyptians

_Seto's birthday wasn't so good. I tried to make it really special for him, but…my present was one he didn't like. And he didn't like that I invited over a friend. It was my fault. I had been foolish to think Seto would want to see the gang at all. My brother shouted so much I think he lost his voice._

_Even worse, he didn't like the present I got him. I can't do anything right anymore. I think he liked the journal he probably doesn't use more than he liked the Egyptian hieroglyphic decoration. I didn't give it to him because he "didn't want anything like the necklace Yugi had," and so, I gave it to someone else instead. That just made him more furious, and I went to my room until he calmed down._

_At breakfast that day, Seto had even mentioned how he had given his life for me, meaning how he had lived so much of it for my sake and to make my own better. He said no thanks was necessary, but maybe he was lying. He confuses me, like sometimes he's one person and other times another._

_Sometimes I wonder if my brother likes me much at all anymore.

* * *

_

The blowing wind from the hillside still sweetly lingered in my nose instead of the smoke that so commonly stank there. Even if I couldn't stay much longer after admitting the most probable truth, its serene beauty could keep some of my common demons at bay for awhile.

Sun barely perceptively lightening the east, I debated crawling into my bed at all. The usual nightmares would wait for me—nightmares of both hopes and a final end to events. Neither could I handle right then. Even that usual dream of not finding the last puzzle piece would have been better than the other nightmares that plagued me.

Maybe the Millennium Necklace was what I should try. After all, what could possibly be worse than admitting my brother may have run away to escape _me?_ It was either try the Necklace or go wake up Yugi and see if he helped my brother run away. Or Wheeler. One of the nerds would probably know something about it. If it were true. But I probably couldn't get into any of their houses. And while that normally wouldn't deter me if I were determined, I felt so weary, so listless, that I could summon any enthusiasm to go there. Besides, I had already gone there so often and asked so many questions I had no idea whether I could trust them or not. The Millennium Necklace was my choice.

With a heavy _chink_, I took the golden decoration into my fingers, seeing the glowing quality it gave to my skin. Almost, my pale fingers turned translucent, and this Item's natural light shone through me.

"How do I even use this?"

In all the times Ishizu had forced the Necklace to show me visions, it had been completely against my will. I had been more intent on keeping hold of my wits than watching how she worked the cursed thing.

Feeling entirely like a buffoon, I took the amulet and held it in my hand, the bulk of its shape in the palm of my hand. Somehow, it seemed oddly warm already. Then, I began to concentrate on thinking, "Memories, my memories is what I want. What happened the night my brother disappeared?"

Long minutes passed with nothing happening and me determinedly continuing to hold the Millennium Necklace, urging it silently—sometimes not so silently—to help me see my true memories.

Nothing happened.

"Stupid thing," I cursed, about to throw it into some unlit corner of my room.

Before I could chuck it out of my sight and away from my tattered hopes, the corner ceased to be unlit. Someone stood there. Someone was there, lighting my room faintly with a soft yellow glow.

"How'd you get in here?" I asked instantly, looking directly into the man's gradient blue eyes even as I could take in the rest of his foreign appearance. A turban rested atop his head, and his long, flowing robes reached the ends of his sandaled feet. Most striking was the cause of the faint glow, which was the ankh-shaped key around his neck. I recognized it instantly as another of those accursed Millennium Items. Nothing else had its own glow nor was such a gigantic chunk of gold.

Despite the glowing Item, however, all my attention remained where my eyes were focused intently on his blue orbs. It was his glaring face that unfazed me, for in all my years, no one had ever been an equal to me in glaring.

This man was.

"Seto Kaiba," he sternly said in an Egyptian accent. "Tell me what you are doing with that Necklace. It was not destined to be yours."

Realizing immediately that the flow of this conversation was going to be his as well as this "he" had to be Shadi, I dropped my annoyance at the avoided question and proceeded to answer.

"Yugi lent it to me."

"The Pharaoh? Why would he do something like that? He needs all the Millennium Items to do what is yet required. To open _that_ door…"

I hated enigmas, and I wasn't going to pleasure this foreigner into questioning him about things he probably wanted me to question. "Who cares? I needed it more right now. But I couldn't get it to work."

"Of course not. It is not destined for you."

Destiny. I almost started laughing in scorn, but if the Necklace wouldn't work for me and Shadi was the only other one who held the answers, I couldn't get on his bad side. Well, any _more_ on his bad side.

"Fine; I'll return it to Yugi later. Now, I—"

"I do not trust you. I will look into your soul and see if you are telling the truth in how you gained that Item."

"What!" I moved backward, having seen the man's brown hand lift his neck decoration up towards my head. "What do you mean?"

"This Key opens the door to one's soul. In the room of the soul, one discovers everything about a person…who they are, what they love, what they fear…even what they themselves do not know." (1)

Even what I did not know? Then that was exactly what I needed! But how could I believe in such paltry magic tricks?

"Nothing has such power," I scoffed, unable to believe this man was really useful and not just a crazy man in a get-up.

"That's because you look and think in the wrong way. It is like you are searching for faint stars in the sky by looking directly at them. It is the side-vision that sees those clearest.

"You look through lenses that tint the world with logic. You see the world only through the perceptions you believe in. But what if what is happening is clearest through the belief in 'fairy tales?' Use your peripheral vision, Kaiba, use a different set of lenses, and maybe then you will see."

"Don't taunt me with false hopes! I've had enough of them! I can't even keep myth and reality separated anymore; how could what you're saying be of any use to me?"

The man looked at me closely, lowering his hand, though I could still sense his intent to use the object on me.

"You have lost pieces of your memory. Why do you not remember things? You try to remember, but you cannot. _You _do not have the memories. That is how what I am saying can be of use to you. Don't be so quick to limit the usefulness of my Key or of arguments that you normally don't believe in.

"You have experienced the power of the Eye before. Surely you do not still doubt that mysterious things happen? The Millennium Items hold enormous quantities of power, Seto Kaiba. Powers that your lens will not see in focus. You must open your mind and be prepared to accept things you formally denied."

What was the fool yapping about? Something had happened that I normally wouldn't believe? Well, he had that right. I'd never believe in this pathetic magic show that Yugi had already tried to convince me of. Sure, Pegasus's tricks were hard to give a concrete reason to, but that didn't mean one did not exist. For all I knew, he could have simply knocked me out and—

No, that would never explained how oddly my brother had looked when I saw him as Pegasus's puppet. And it would never explain the intense feeling of aloneness that had enwrapped me for unlimited time—it had seemed an eternity—and how I existed no where but felt present at the same time…

Taking a closer look at the man before who seemed to know my history as well as myself, I shook my head. This Shadi character was either a raving madman or someone with extraordinary powers. Then again, maybe I was hallucinating. I _had_ gone a long while without adequate rest.

"I will go into your soul room now and see what things are in there that are causing you unrest. I will go and see if I must weigh your heart."

Before I could even protest and argue about what exactly he meant when he said "weigh your heart," the man's hand had raised the Key once more, making it level with my forehead. Then, he gave his wrist a flick.

Shadi didn't move for a few seconds, not through blinking or even breathing it looked like. Then, his arm went back into place, returning the Key to his neck.

How odd. I hadn't experienced anything or felt anything during the experience. I just thought how amusing Shadi appeared, still as a statue.

But I still remembered what I hoped to find out by him.

"Well? What did you learn? What happened the night my brother was kidnapped?" I asked in a rush, fingers clenching and unclenching as I waited to find out what truth was in my soul…or to find out this man was a fraud.

Shadi stared at me with his usual glare, blue eyes intense and seeming to judge me for every wrong I had ever committed. Such a gaze made my insides feel they were withering and drying to nothing.

"No."

"No?" I echoed dumbly.

"Your brother was not kidnapped," Shadi said sternly.

"Well, he didn't run away!" I immediately snapped back, even though with what I was learning, it was actually probable that he had. Still…I hated admitting that to myself, much less this near-stranger. For a near-stranger, though, he seemed to know a lot about me.

The Egyptian stared at me with his unfathomable eyes. "No," he agreed, "he did not run away. Your brother is dead. He was murdered in your own house." His eyes didn't blink, and the accusatory stare remained. "By you."

* * *

(1): Shadi says this exact quotation in the second volume of _Yu-Gi-Oh!_ the manga. 


	33. Thirty Two: Inner Voices

Chapter Thirty-Two: Inner Voices

_The bruise on my wrist caught my brother's attention now. He asked me who had done it. He wouldn't stop trying to get the answers out of me, and I never said a word. I just came up here and locked the door._

_I've never locked my brother out before._

_But how could he not know he was the one who had clutched my arm so tightly it had bruised that badly?_

_I had only wanted to wave goodbye to Yugi, but somehow, he didn't want me to do that and so, he dragged me away from the window, clutching my arm._

_Why, Seto?_

_Why?

* * *

_

"I would never!" I spit out vehemently.

"I see the truth. Do not try to deny what the soul room holds. All there is laid bare!"

"Me? Murder Mokuba? You're fucking mad!"

"Not me, but you have been. I see it all—how you grew angry towards him and even squeezed his arm so tightly he got a bruise, how you hit him in the chest once, how you eventually came to strangle him, how jealous you were of Yugi, and how you burned the body afterwards!"

"Shut up! Shut your lying bastard's mouth right now!"

I wouldn't listen to any more of this spinning tale the ludicrous man spewed. Leaving was wise before I really _did_ commit murder. Pacing out of the darkened area—out of the foreign place that had once been my room—Shadi remained behind, not even attempting to follow. He had the Necklace in his hands, I had seen him take it. He had what he came for. What else had he to do other than ruin a life? All a bit more fun in the line of his day's work, I imagined.

"Look for the tape, Seto Kaiba. The tape from the glasses."

His next words were halted as I slammed the door to my room and started to pace down the hall.

"Yet, you cannot be held accountable during the weighing of—"

"MOKUBA'S—NOT—DEAD!" The door slammed the finality of the conversation.

* * *

Two months and twenty-seven days. Why, why did I still hold out so much hope that my brother would be alive? Hope was harder to kill than a Toon Blue-Eyes White Dragon. And just as able to murder one's pride and dignity by twisting around one's bearer until the hollow husk no longer could support the weight of breath. 

The glasses were what Shadi told me to find.

"_What are those glasses for? I knew it! You really do need them; you were lying before."_

"_They're not for my eyesight; they're a type of secret camera."_

"_Really? Can I see?"_

I had handed them right on over, and I even remembered, _now_, Yugi commenting on them when he was talking with my brother. Well, not Yugi. Yami.

"_Since when did you wear glasses, Mokuba?"_

"_These? These aren't real glasses. They're camera ones! My brother is letting me wear them and I'm filming my creation."_

I had never thought of them before. No one had ever mentioned them in the reports. How could I have never thought of them before? It seemed like such a small thing, and yet, I had known they were taping. Could it be possible the glasses still lay here somewhere, showing the truth of the incident?

Then it'll show I didn't do it, I thought, running a shaking hand through my hair. That damned bastard…claiming _I_ killed Mokuba. Not only is Mokuba alive, but I would never harm my brother!

Except you nearly hit him before.

That voice never shut up no matter how I raged or pounded at my head. A dull throb constantly knocked against my head these days, but even that wouldn't cease the voice.

And if you nearly hit him before, what's to say you wouldn't go farther? What's to say, with your baffled memory, you _didn't_ hit him already?

How many hairs had I already ripped from my tortured head? How deep were the gauges from my nails as I dug at my face and tried to get the voice out? In all my life, the voice of a conscience had been easily stifled and killed. This voice didn't seem to be a conscience. It seemed to be a demon intent on driving me to suicide from guilt or just to stifle the nasty, slimy sound of it.

This couldn't last. This half-life, this guilt and fear, hope and cynicism.

Answers.

The glasses. It was time to begin hunting.

* * *

The entire collection of what had been used in the haunted mansion setup had been piled up and away. Even with my frantic determination to find some hint of evidence, a rogue fingerprint on one of the objects used in the game, even with that, I didn't remember the glasses. 

"They must not have been picked up with the rubble…someone might have overlooked them. No…impossible they were overlooked with the lights and searching that we all did. My basement had turned into a different place after that searching."

How could I not have thought of them, not found them missing? Where the hell were they?

Frantically, I dug through everything I had gone through before. But the glasses, as I suspected, didn't linger there.

"Where could they be? Where could they possibly be?" I muttered to myself, ruining my hair further with my constant rifling through it. Heading back to the basement, I still did not believe they'd be there. But where else had I to look? The search would take countless hours. But I would have to do it.

As sun dawned over the mansion and filtered to the house its golden rays, I remained down under the earth, thinking it fitting I hid from its purity and blessing, that I rested among the worms where I belonged. If what Shadi said were true…I faced the darkness like my brother did.

Without all the fake walls, searching the basement proved a lot easier than before. The floor was mostly bare, and I would have seen the glasses even with their small size. Boxes of things that seemed to collect in everyone's basement regardless of status was where I planned to go next, but I decided that the tomb-like feeling of the room had grown too oppressing. Yes, I deserved to feel in a sepulchral, but my body would work better if I had more light and heat.

The fireplace had no logs in it, only ash, so I readied some of them and poured lighter fluid on them; a can always sat ready nearby. Before I could get the match lit, though, one of the logs slipped free of the setup I had them in.

"Stupid things…"

Carefully, I maneuvered it around once more, but as I set it firmly in place, the ash at the bottom near it sprang up in an odd design. The log had rested unbalanced because it sat on something. So, I pried free the hardened piece of debris from under the log and looked at it closely, wiping and blowing off the ash.

It was a lens.

"The…glasses."

Instantly, I threw all the logs out of the fire pit and dug in the pile of old ash. Why had I never thought to look through the ashes for clues?

In pieces, but rather whole pieces, I found the spying glasses. It was well I had made them fireproof and as indestructible as I could. They wouldn't have lasted in the fireplace without it, assuming they had been tossed in while the fire blazed.

"Could the tape…could it be intact?"

Taking all the pieces upstairs once more, I went into my workroom and looked closely at the blackened metal that held the tiny film capsule. With a lot of work, eventually, with enough prying, I could force open the catch. Inside, the chip looked whole and undamaged.

"Mokuba…" I said, staring at the chip that rested in my fingers. So fragile, so tiny, and yet, the chip carried within it, most likely, all my desperate answers.

My special laptop would hold the chip and play out the video; I wasted no time readying the computer and putting in the memory chip to show me the footage of that night. Never had anyone else in the history of cinema stared as riveted as I did at my screen.

"Please work," I found myself whispering and hoping, even as I grew frightened of what I might see. What terrible things had my brother witnessed?

My hands gripped the arms of the chair, turning them whiter than fresh snow blazing in the noon sun and reflecting the peerless clouds.

What would the glasses show me?


	34. Thirty Three: Evidence from Glasses

Chapter Thirty-Three: Evidence from Glasses

_I know he couldn't have meant to, I know he didn't mean it. But, well, my brother did something I can't forget or just ignore._

_He hit me. Shoved me hard right on my chest, right where the necklace from Yugi lay. And when that imbedded in me, it _hurt._ Seto couldn't've known I'd had it…I never told him I even wanted it. He would have been ashamed that I'd wanted something so similar to Yugi's or something that would be categorized as a type of fantasy. He hates those things most of all._

_He came later and apologized, but it didn't even seem like he knew what he was apologizing for. I hope that just means he was so embarrassed and apologetic about what he did he couldn't say it. _

_I hope things change after this.

* * *

_

Trembling, I hit the "play" button.

Only darkness covered the screen, and light steps emanating the only sound echoing within the darkness.

"_Tell another spooky story, Mokuba, I want to see Wheeler get up and run."_

My voice sounded odd coming from the tape, especially when a flickering darkness was all I saw, almost like static. Like a DVD, this tape automatically played at the beginning, no rewinding needed.

Slowly, with a mesmerized trance-like focus, I listened and watched the tape as it showed the film of that night. This time, I noticed things I had forgotten or even changed. The tape wouldn't lie. My mind and memories had been lying.

My brother had told a story of a cursed thing, all right. But while he told a tale of a dragon pendant, I could tell, through long pauses and unaligned facts (my brother could repeat information quite well), Mokuba had been the one who had created it. Not the shopkeeper. No store had ever existed. No dragon pendant.

And after that, as I moved closer, nothing much still to see, I heard the gang asking my brother about the pendant and how he had made up the story. From there, they even made a brief try to see how my brother was health-wise. Apparently, they thought a connection existed between the story to his own wounds. But even to them, Mokuba never gave a hint of where he received his wounds.

My brother explained the rules…the gang took off. Then I made my appearance and I saw my brother.

"Mokuba…" I whispered, eyes riveted on his innocent, young face. Too many days had passed since I had last seen him in action, since I had last seen him with any _life_. Eyes shining, face so eager, I wanted to clutch him in my arms like I had in the dreams, but I feared that doing so would simply enforce that he was gone from me. Gone for good, somewhere I could never follow.

All too soon, the view of the camera panned off his angelic face. My brother was taking the glasses and putting them on. He had worn them all night…

"_Really? Can I see?"_

"_Sure…but only because they've been fireproofed, waterproofed, idiot-proofed, smashing-proofed, and curiosity-proofed. You should be able to handle them without harm."_

Why had I wasted such moments with my brother? Why had I teased him so much? But then, that had been our relationship. That had been how we conversed and proof of how well we had gotten along.

"_Cool! When I look at the light, they change to sunglasses."_

"_They're called transitional lenses, Mokuba."_

"_So, these are some pretty nifty shades we have here! … What we need are some night goggles now…"_

"_We could probably find some."_

"_Nah, too much like cheating."_

On we went in the basement, and I wished to see my brother's face once more. Almost, I halted the tape to go back and just look at him again, but I had to know the ending. I had to know what was going to happen and how it all added up.

This time, at my brother's mention of cameras, I had to agree with him.

"_I kinda wish we had a setup like you did—uh, _before_. You know, cameras set up to watch how they were doing. But I didn't have enough time to add in a bunch of cameras, especially ones that would work with the darkness and still manage to see despite the added walls I put up. We'd've needed _a lot_ of cameras to see everywhere."_

"Hopefully," I whispered as my eyes burned, "this one camera was enough to hold the answers."

The butler caught up to us and informed my brother that the spider had been defeated. And my brother was worried the maze was too difficult. My reply startled me, however, as did the expression on my face as my brother looked up at me.

"_We shouldn't have to help them, Mokuba. Let's just continue to see how they're doing before we interfere. You know _Yugi_'ll be able to handle it just fine."_

Such loathing had been in my voice? Such hatred? I didn't like Yugi, sure, but to turn downright evil and sound sadistic, ready to murder him? And…jealousy. Even today, the flare of it returned to me and I knew the envy of my biggest rival.

"_No, go ahead; document your Kaiba Mansion Haunted House and see if you can sell it for some money. The idiots out in the world will buy anything."_

The video slipped by so quickly…my brother's voice played as a Mozart symphony to my ears and I never wanted it to cease.

Why…_why _had I left my brother?

"_You're going to find him, Seto?"_

"_Yeah, I better, or I'll have to hire an attorney to sue him for beaten servants. Listen; you keep checking out your maze while I go to seek out Wheeler and let him know the rules. I'll catch back up with you somewhere…eventually."_

"…_All right. If that's what you want. See you soon?"_

"_Sure, kiddo. Make sure no one attacks you, all right?"_

"_They won't. And don't be too hard on Joey. I want him to stay the rest of the night!"_

"_Sure, sure, whatever."_

I had even warned him against an attack, not thinking it'd really happen. Irony really was infatuated with me.

Now, though, came a part I had not been present for. This section I truly needed to see. What happened and where did my brother go? How much had Bakura lied about during that attack?

"_Ah—hey! Let go!"_

Hearing my brother cry out made my heart bleed and my eyes truly start to blur. The camera angle did not move, staring at some blackness, and I knew someone held my brother tightly despite his struggling. Only a low chuckle came from somewhere.

"_Ring! Now we must take over this new host!"_

A light flashed…what nonsense was this?

"_That's better, host. I knew you'd be better than this one I'm inhabiting now. I just hope this works."_

I knew that voice. The tone had the same raspy residue as the one in my office that night. No, the voice was the same as _Bakura_. The teen could not have more than one aspect to himself.

"_Wh-where am I?"_

Somehow, though, _that_ voice, the confused and quite one, I always expected and associated with Bakura. The harsher one vanished like there actually _were_ more than one Bakura, kind of like what happened with Yugi and that creep in the Puzzle.

My brother screamed, the sound grating into static on the tape. Now, my eyes truly wept.


	35. Thirty Four: Blank Spots Filled

Chapter Thirty-Four: Blank Spots Filled

_Yugi suspects the truth. I think the whole gang does. But my brother never _means_ to hurt me. I know it! So that's part of the reason I invited them over. I want them to see that Seto isn't really that bad, especially not to me._

_Though sometimes, I wonder what I did to make my brother get this way._

_What can I do to make him back to the way he was? Back when I was ignored by him all the time, it really hurt. And now I can't decide which hurts worse—before when he ignored me or now when he keeps releasing his anger on me._

_Both must mean that I'm not a good brother.

* * *

_

Watching more of the tape grew exceedingly trying. Here I sat, two months and twenty-eight days in the future, unable to help him. But even worse, on the day all the events transpired, I had been unable to help him, too. I had not even _stayed_ with him.

Mokuba screamed in agony for too long of a time. Each second it reverberated and locked itself within my heart where I would never forget the sound of it.

Then, everything went silent. Bakura had stopped calling my brother's name, and my brother had ceased screaming at last.

"_Mokuba?" _

"_Uhhh…Bakura?"_

The camera hadn't moved in awhile, not as if much existed to see. But I soon learned why they had remained prone.

"_Oh, no…I hope I didn't ruin the glasses…"_

"As if it matters that they fell off your face, kiddo," I whispered, seeing once more my brother's dim face as he examined them. A light approached from behind him, too, and the camera dizzily switched view as Mokuba put them back on his face. Then he turned toward the workers coming with flashlights.

"_Is everything all right here, Mr. Kaiba? We heard screams."_

"_I'm just fine. Nothing really happened. This is a haunted house, remember? People ought to be screaming. Bakura, I think you should continue with the game."_

"_Wh-what are _you_ going to do? What happened?"_

That soft voice was definitely Bakura's. My brother, however, never answered him. By the flashlight beams and sounds of steps, the workers left with my brother. Apparently, whatever had happened had left my brother unchanged, unharmed. But I couldn't easily believe that. A boy does not scream as my brother was and then just stand up totally fine. It couldn't be true…

"You look through lenses that tint the world with logic. You see the world only through the perceptions you believe in. But what if what is happening is clearest through the belief in 'fairy tales?'" That was what Shadi had said to me. But how could he know anything?

"_You guys can get back to work. I see Yugi up ahead and I want to see how he's doing!"_

To me, I could tell my brother feigned how eager he felt, that the trauma had left more residue on my brother's window-glass mood than he let on. But the servants left as he ordered.

"_Yugi!"_

"_Mokuba? Since when did you wear glasses, Mokuba?"_

"_These? These aren't real glasses. They're camera ones! My brother is letting me wear them and I'm filming my creation."_

"_Mokuba, was that scream real awhile back?"_

"_Well…yeah. It was me. But I must have just been having a hallucination or something. Everything's fine now."_

"_Really. Even there?"_

Yugi had just pointed to my brother's chest. I remembered that some wound had rested there…not a burn mark from the dragon pendant, though. A cut and a bruise both, like something had imbedded in him.

Apparently, at my brother's silence, Yugi had to continue.

"_Mokuba, I'm so glad to see you wearing that gift I gave to you."_

"_Are you joking? I've been wanting something like this forever! It's my favorite object!"_

I still couldn't believe Mokuba had never told me he had wanted it. And I couldn't believe how long he had hid it from my sight.

Steps approached. They were mine.

"_Mokuba! I heard screams—"_

"_I'm just fine, big brother! The servants came as soon as I screamed, and they'll tell you, I'm not injured!"_

"_Oh, really? Then what about there?" _I, too, pointed at my brother's chest. He had winced when shifting position, hand fluttering to his torso, I remembered.

"…"

"_Mokuba?"_

"…_All right. It hurts a little."_

"_Why?"_

"_Something weird happened. I fell down there."_

A lie, I could tell. How could I not last time? When I asked to see, he lifted his shirt only as high as his abdomen. The glasses shot a downward angle at my brother's abdomen, and there five red marks decorated his flesh. Not terrible wounds, but enough to hurt someone. And they had gone right through his shirt. What on earth could have caused that? Bakura _had_ to know something more…

Though the video did not show it, I knew Mokuba had lifted his shirt just far enough I caught a glimpse of blue and purple a little higher, though. And that wound he mentioned nothing of.

But now was the time for the video. So far, nothing too unusual had occurred. My major memory loss had happened around this time. Maybe, now, answers would find me.

Yugi said, _"Well, I'll go on and continue in the game, Mokuba."_

My brother didn't answer. After the sound of steps faded in the dimly lit area, the camera focused on my face. It was livid.

"_What was that Yugi gave you?"_ Apparently, I overheard his conversation with Yugi.

"…_Nothing."_

"_Nothing? You looked really excited to have it, and I heard you saying it was something you really wanted."_

"…"

"_You really wanted it and you'd never even _told_ me about it?"_

"_You wouldn't've cared."_

"_You never gave me the chance to care."_

"_It isn't something you'd be pleased to give me, anyway. It's too close to that 'mumbo-jumbo nonsense' you're always talking about!"_

"_Then why would you want it?"_

"_Don't you get it, Seto? _You_ may not like that stuff, but _I_ do! Apparently, I know you better than you know me. And even _Yugi_ knows me better than you do!"_

I hated seeing this part. My face appeared so incensed…the tone sharp and sarcastic. Someone must have stomped, for the two of us had stopped moving and it sounded like one of us took a step.

"_Oh, Yugi knows you better, does he? Was it Yugi who has lived with you all your life? Was it Yugi who protected you from bullies at the orphanage? Yugi who got you out of the orphanage and into a better life?"_

"_Better life? I _hated_ Gozaburo!"_

"_Was it Yugi who defeated Gozaburo? Yugi who took over the company and switched it to gaming? Was it Yugi who invented Kaiba Land?"_

"_It was Yugi who saved me from your 'Experience of Death!' It was Yugi who saved me at Duelist Kingdom! He saved me when _you couldn't_. He saved me when you _locked_ me away to go insane! Yugi has done plenty for me! He's—"_

"_Shut up! You want perfect little Yugi again? You want him to be your brother? Fine, then see if he'll bother to save you this time."_

I leaned closer to my brother, and though I doubted it was me, I heard a low chuckle. But with the expression on my face, it most certainly could have been me.

"_Seto, don't! Don't hurt me again!"_

Again? I had never hit my brother…I _loved _my brother. Why would I have hurt him?

"_Please, Seto!"_

From the camera view, my brother must have backed up. I continued to approach, my face stony and somewhat…blank. But the eyes were enraged, fire illuminating their depths so that no light seemed needed to pick them out.

The fear in my brother's voice struck me, and I wanted—I wanted to murder myself.

By God…my arms reached out. I was trying to _strangle_ my brother!

Impossible! Never! I refused to accept this. It must have been some kind of joke, some other tease like all the others. I _loved_ my brother…

"_B-bro-ther…"_

The word, I almost missed it the word sounded so weak.

The camera never showed Mokuba's face, but I could imagine it, the look of betrayal and shock, the look of _fear_ of me. Directly into the camera lens…directly into my brother's _eyes_—that was where my sadistic eyes remained focused. During the entire thing, I had watched my brother's eyes lose their light, lose their life, had felt his pulse weaken under my very hands, and I had…_grinned.

* * *

_

The rest of the video played and I watched it like a mute zombie. The glasses fell off after I had carried my brother's body—my brother's _corpse_—for a little while. View changing rapidly, they went still and I could still see where I stored the body from the angle they fell.

The casket with the maggots. I buried him under all the worms, and being so small, he fit mostly under the permanently closed section, anyway. When I closed the lid once more, I made sure it fastened securely where someone most likely wouldn't think to look. Then, I had picked up the glasses and just in time.

Obviously, the reason I had put the body there was because someone approached. Yet, whoever came went past without coming into the room.

I scoped out the maze then, glasses still in hand. Where did I go? To the place where I could dispose of the body. The medieval room with the fireplace. The glasses I left near to fireplace.

Minutes passed, then, minutes in which none of these memories ever surfaced in my mind. For a moment, I humored myself that this was someone's idea of a sick joke…but it couldn't be.

From the angle of the glasses, they caught the door on camera. There I saw myself return and leave, return and leave…I brought more wood. Wood and various chemicals to ensure that nothing would remain.

Finally, I returned in the room carrying my brother's body once more. A few maggots rested in his hair and squirmed blissfully on his cooled flesh. Their time had come for their feast. But they'd never get a chance to.

My brother's body made a lot of black smoke as it sizzled and slowly lit on fire. I had nearly emptied the lighter fluid on the blaze to make my brother's body burn completely away to ash.

Hot…so hot and large the fire had to be. It didn't stay in the fireplace. But I made certain nothing else caught, and I probably put everything exactly back to rights as well. But there's no proof of that. The glasses had to burn, too, after all.

The tape turned black once more, as black as the memories that I couldn't recall and yet had to believe.

* * *

During all the two months and twenty-eight days, I had never opened my brother's journal. It was his private book. I had no right to look into it. 

The diary had sat on one of my brother's stacks of things, probably because he had given no thought to hiding it. Or maybe, he _had_ given thought and knew that people tended to overlook obvious places in plain view when searching for things. But he had never had to fear I'd look at it.

Even if the thoughts there might have showed some evidence of the "bully" who had beaten up my brother, even thinking that Mokuba might have had some glimpse or idea of "who could have kidnapped him," I could not breach the respect.

To read my brother's journal was to break the promise and bond between us. Doing so was as good as saying he was dead, for only then would I break a promise to Mokuba.

Except I learned twenty minutes ago that I had broken far more promises to my brother than merely those ones. Now, I had to see what other promises I had broken to my brother before I had broken his body. Now that my brother was dead and I had murdered him, no secrets remained to keep.

_My brother has been acting really strange lately. He gets mad so easily, and so I tried to avoid him a lot recently._

_I can't do anything right anymore._

_Sometimes I wonder if my brother likes me much at all anymore. _

_He wouldn't stop trying to get the answers out of me, and I never said a word. I just came up here and locked the door.  
__I've never locked my brother out before.  
__But how could he not know he was the one who had clutched my arm so tightly it had bruised that badly?_

_Why, Seto?_

_I know he didn't mean it. But, well, my brother did something I can't forget or just ignore.  
__He hit me._

_So that's part of the reason I invited them over. I want them to see that Seto isn't really that bad, especially not to me._

_And now I can't decide which hurts worse—before when he ignored me or now when he keeps releasing his anger on me.  
__Both must mean that I'm not a good brother._

The truth in my brother's journal solidified all the memories I had newly gotten back, and the truth also vanquished all the untrue memories. It assured me that I truly had sunk into insanity. My jealousy of Yugi had grown far too potent.

I had never given my brother a birthday present as a deal for not being there for his birthday. _Yugi_ had given my brother that gift, and Mokuba had never told me who had given it to him. My mind had created the belief in the dragon pendant, as well as the curse, to give my violent attitude excuses or to see a real reason I would ever bruise him or hit him. And it was no coincidence that I had hit my brother right where that amulet lay, right where the proof sat that Yugi had grown closer to my brother than I had. And hitting that necklace had only hurt my brother more, digging in its sharp edges.

Plus, I had had a habit of getting angry whenever I heard Mokuba talk about Yugi or if Yugi came over for any reason, mostly to just visit Mokuba. Only whenever Yugi had been here would I grow, occasionally, violent. Something minor, something petty, some comment Mokuba let slip about what a good duelist Yugi was or how nice Yugi was, and I would snap back. And once, I had grabbed his arm and dragged him away so he couldn't wave farewell to Yugi, not even noticing how tightly I had held his wrist. And the next day, when I noticed the bruising…I couldn't even remember doing it.

The day I had discovered the necklace Yugi had given him, when I learned who it was from…that had been the day I had hit him.

Surely, I had been going mad for months. It hadn't started just when my brother "disappeared." And he had never disappeared.

I had…

…_murdered_ him.

I knew it as true as I knew anything. For once, not a doubt existed in my mind that this was a false memory. Not only was there proof, but I had been carrying the guilt with me for two months and twenty-eight days. The vision of worms eating my brother…that had come from the guilt of secreting my brother's body in the casket as I waited to move to where I could dispose of it. And the wood smoke plus the extra nasty tang had been when I burned my brother's body, burned it as long as I had to so _nothing_ would be left.

And nothing _was _left.

I had nothing to live for anymore.

* * *

_Lighter fluid was always kept next to the fireplace…_


	36. Finale: I'll Never Forgive You

Finale: I'll Never Forgive You

And so…my covers hold within them many anguished screams that continue to echo as they ricochet down the halls.

Somehow, it didn't take long for the house to fall into its ruins, slip into the decay that seemed to have an order all its own. Without the workers keeping busy, everything faded and molded. Without love living within, nothing had any will to remain pure and clean, fit to be used. So, the decay had already two months and twenty-eight days before the workers left the mansion.

No one moved in. People knew unhappy spirits had to haunt it. And no one could give the spirits any rest. When some strangers _did_ move in, they left within the week, unable to bear it. People cannot live within utter misery and hope to stay sane.

One person visited the mansion once, however, completely at ease as he walked down the halls. Almost, he seemed to belong to the place he was so comfortable. But then, he had been here before.

"Nothing must remain of him," the figure said lowly, glare focusing on me as another's glare used to. But this one seemed far worse, not a glare of annoyance or lack of time or accusation of what I held; this glare held utter malice and contempt mixed in with a glee that nearly made me tremble where I rested in the master bedroom.

The usual, comfortable walls changed from the bedroom to some other place, somewhere deeper, darker, lower…colder. Like a tomb.

The one holding me spoke again, not seeming to need any light to see his path down the stairs.

"A person can change their soul into any kind of monster, but in the end, the shadows _always _eat them alive."

He slipped something between my pages, something similar to me, only more slender. Another book filled with personal handwriting rested safely within my pages, and I knew from its very persona that this was one I had to protect with my life…so my owner had willed into my very pages.

Finally, his hand tossed us to our final resting place: a spot on dull stone in the midst of choking fumes. Then, a dousing with something oily, and a single match lit me like a dry prairie fire sweeping down the grasses. All my secrets, my emotions, my stories…all could soon puff away in a single breath. Worst of all, the one I should have protected soon burned along with me, my pages unable to stifle and choke the flames.

"I warned you, Kaiba. I warned you before, didn't I? 'Kaiba, you've hurt my friends and my family…I'll _never_ forgive you, even if you _beg_ for mercy.' And so it is. Finally, my plan for you comes to its end."

The flames had eaten my pages so swiftly that only a few remained in blackened crisps. The spine might have held some inky words that had been too thick to burn easily, but no one could make sense out of knowing one word every line. Of the other book, even less remained because of how much smaller it had been. Completely helpless to protect the little one, to stop the flames from eating it alive…

"I crushed your heart and you never remade it. Never had the chance because you never got Mokuba back. He ran to _me_ at the end of Duelist Kingdom. And your brother was the final piece of your heart. That was the puzzle piece I never let you have." An eerie smile crossed his face and the flames lit in his eyes, making them completely red. Redder than the dragon amulet's ever had been documented within me. The dragon amulet that had not existed as this one's red eyes did.

Behind those eyes, a different set rested, and so completely different from the first set were the second that it made this one's evilness that much worse. A single change could occur and an innocent boy returned to the surface, blinking as if awakening, _having no memory of what had happened during the time the other was in charge_. Like what was documented in my pages.

But always, the other would continue to plot no matter whether in charge or biding his time within. The eyes could look upon friends of the innocent one and see enemies…and he would strike again. To someone. Sometime. He had time to spare to ensure he received the best vengeance. Even if those innocent eyes offered forgiveness and friendship, the malevolent eyes would _never_ do so. Not to _anyone._

Slowly, the embers died away and the figure turned away. He said one last line full of complete arrogance, and the echoing tone would dig a pit in anyone's stomach:

"My enemies never get a second chance and my plots never fail." He smirked. "Heh, heh."

Then, the dark figure turned away and went back up the stairs, leaving me to rest in my bed of ash, to cool and flake away, covers all that remained in any wholeness. The other book that I had wanted to save and shelter was but sooty fingerprints on my blackened, baked cover…and some cover it had been, too. Utterly worthless. Its inky words had been absorbed by my hardened leather and manufactured ingredients, its story ingrained with my own.

But both were lost utterly.

Not a learning tale would this be. No one else would see what had happened and maybe take a simple truth to mind and remember, changing the way of his or her life.

I shall be the only one to ever know the complete truth, for I remember the tale even with my pages burned and cracked away, ashes to dust.

* * *

End. 


End file.
